


Every Day, a Little Death

by LovesBitca8



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dom Hermione Granger, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, If You Squint - Freeform, Infidelity, Massage, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, POV Draco Malfoy, Praise Kink, Public Sex, Sex God Draco, Sexual Roleplay, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vibrators, experienced hermione, inappropriate use of the room of requirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-06-05 14:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 67,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15172673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovesBitca8/pseuds/LovesBitca8
Summary: It has become common knowledge that Hermione Granger cannot have an orgasm. Many have tried, none have succeeded. Can Draco Malfoy offer his assistance? // 8th Year AU - WIP





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "WHAT IS SHE DOING!" you may ask. "SHE'S IN THE MIDDLE OF ATWT AND SHE NEEDS TO START ON THE AUCTION AU!" Yes, my friends. These are my thoughts exactly.
> 
> I'm thinking 5 chapters (read: 10). 8th Year AU. Draco's POV only, but in 3rd person. A little comedy thrown in as well. And of course, a lot of attempted orgasms.

“—Could not get her off. I was down on her for fifteen minutes at least.”

“That’s generous! I only spent a few minutes down there because it seemed like she was ready, but then she never came!”

“Exactly!”

Draco’s focus was pulled from the novel he was half-through. He had eyed Blaise and the other boy when they chose to sit next to him and chat when he was _clearly_ looking for peace from the two of _them,_ but they had ignored him. He was sitting in the corner of the common room, and they had still found him.

It was so tough being this popular.

“Which bint are you on about?” he asked.

“Granger,” they responded together.

His eyes flipped to them, waiting for the joke.

“Granger who?” he tried, hopeful.

“Hermione Granger,” Blaise said slowly, like Draco was deaf. 

Draco looked back and forth between them. “What about her?”

“She’s frigid or something,” the other boy said. Monty? Murphy? Draco tried not to learn his name in hopes that he wouldn’t need to know it, but he’d been following him and Blaise around since the start of the year. Being “8th years,” Draco, Blaise and Theo had started rooming with the 7th years, like Mocky here, and he’d been inescapable. 

“I wouldn’t say ‘frigid,’” Blaise said, scholarly. “She can be quite responsive.”

Muphbert nodded his head vigorously. 

“But she just doesn’t come,” Blaise continued.

Draco blinked. “We’re talking about Granger?”

“She’s not bad too look at, Draco. Even you have to admit that,” Blaise raised a brow at him. 

Draco didn’t have to admit to anything. He was quite confused. 

“Especially with the slim-pickings this year,” Blaise continued.

“Yes, such a shame everyone had to die, and all,” Draco said, sarcasm pouring off his tongue.

“Right you are!” Muggins said. He placed his hand over his heart. “I miss Lavender Brown. What a set she had on her.”

“So, you’ve slept with _Granger?_ ” Draco asked Blaise. 

“A couple times.” Blaise leaned back in his chair. “She’s great, except –“ Blaise gestured to Morgan.

“She can’t come!”

Draco smirked. “Maybe not for you, Mullins.” The boy looked strangely at him. Draco could check “Mullins” off the list. 

“Me neither.” Blaise admitted. He looked quite resigned to it, which was a first. Draco and Blaise had always been first to talk about girls and compare notes. Blaise was always trying to out-do him.

“Well,” Draco said. “The war was a stressful time. I’m sure it’s a side effect, or post-traumatic—“

“No, no.” Blaise leaned forward. “I got so worked up about it after the first time we did it, so I contacted Krum. Says she couldn’t back then, either!”

Something wasn’t sitting well with Draco. “How long have you been seeing, Granger?” he asked Blaise.

“Oh, I’ve only been with her once –“

“Not you, Martin.”

“I’ve met up with her a few times.” Blaise shrugged. “I’m not _seeing_ her.” Blaise glared at him. “You’re not honestly going to tell me who I can and can’t shag based on their blood status, are you Malfoy?”

“No, nothing like that,” Draco said. “I’m just surprised that Granger’s shagging people right and left.”

“Granger?” Theo walked into the common room. “I’ve shagged her. Bloody good time.”

Draco glared at him. What the hell was happening.

“But she can’t finish, right?”

Theo shrugged. “She screamed like a banshee for me.”

The three boys looked at him. 

“Really?” Blaise asked, eyes narrowed.

“Yeah. Back in October. I had her in a classroom during Prefect rounds.” Theo smiled and Draco wanted to hit him. “Bent her over a teacher’s desk and we went at it.”

“And she came?” Draco asked.

“Definitely.” Theo smirked. Draco clenched his jaw.

“Oooh. Oh god.” 

Draco looked over and Blaise had his eyes closed, running his hands up his chest. 

“Yeah. YES! YES! Theo. YES!”

Blaise opened his eyes and dropped his hands. “Like that?” he deadpanned. 

“I mean…” Theo glared at him. “She wasn’t faking it, if that’s what you mean.”

Blaise smirked. “She was. She told me she hasn’t ever had an orgasm.”

Draco looked at him. This was something she admitted? That was so personal. An image floated through Draco’s head – Granger and Blaise, wrapped up in white sheets, running their hands over each other after finishing. Blaise kissing her neck as she spilled her darkest secrets—

“I’m sorry,” Draco said, standing and spinning to look at the room. “Have _all_ of you gits slept with Hermione Granger?”

A small first year looked back at him and shook his head “no.”

“ _Draco_ hasn’t?” Theo crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked him up and down. “I’m surprised. I thought you would have jumped her on the Hogwarts Express this year.”

Draco’s neck felt hot. “Excuse me? Why?”

Theo shrugged. “No more Voldemort. Your father’s locked up. No more blood purity bullshit to worry about. Weasley and Potter aren’t here and Pansy’s in France.”

Draco blinked at him. “None of those are reasons to ‘jump her on the Hogwarts Express.’”

“Alright, alright.” Blaise stood, grinning. “The most important thing right now, is that Theo thinks he got her off.” Blaise chuckled. “Theo thinks that Viktor Krum couldn’t do it, Blaise Zabini couldn’t do it, but he _did_ it.”

“I said none of those things –“

“So, I say,” Blaise tilted his head, “he should give it another whirl and let us know how he fares.”

“Fine!” Theo threw up his hands. “I’ll talk to her in class tomorrow, see if I can meet up with her this week.”

Draco’s eye twitched. It should be harder than that to have sex with Hermione Granger. She was… difficult. Wasn’t she? He looked around at all the boys who’d had sex with her over the past few months (first year excluded) and wondered why she was sleeping around.

~*~

Draco watched her through classes the next day. She was still the same swotty know-it-all she always was. He tried to imagine her bent over a desk for Theo, and the image made his neck prickly.

He packed up his books and was just heading out the door when he saw Theo approach her. He stopped and watched as she smiled warmly at him. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Theo touched her arm… like they were friends. Or lovers. And she let him.

Draco left.

~*~

She had nice tits, he supposed. And she was thin, but not too thin. And while her legs were long, apparently she’d spread them for every dolt over the age of seventeen. Or at least that’s what he was surmising at this point.

Blaise had done more research. Justin Finch-Fletchley had had her. Ernie Macmillan had had her. Terry Boot had had her. 

None of them had gotten her off. Draco was with Blaise when he questioned Ernie, and Draco hadn’t been able to stop himself from asking, “How did you approach her about it?”

Ernie had lifted his brows and said, “She came on to me, actually. We were chatting and she asked if I felt like meeting up with her sometime. Very forward of her, but… charming too.” Ernie had nodded, smiling, like the whole thing was an old fairy tale or a fond memory.

“That’s about how it was with me,” Blaise had said. And Draco had glowered as the two of them talked about her perfect tits.

~*~

It wasn’t that he found her attractive. Not at all. It’s just that Draco had been known to be a generous lover. No one complained (and he did write to Pansy and she did confirm that she had never faked it with him, why do you ask, Draco?) and he was sure that all the witches he’d been with had a good time.

So, if there was some kind of a competition here, some kind of a reward, then he wanted it.

_That_ is why he was in the library on a Saturday night, watching Granger compile a list of research texts for the History of Magic paper. It was assigned yesterday, and wasn’t due for three weeks. That’s how he knew he could find her here.

She checked her list and then wandered to the stacks closest to his table. This was as good a time as any.

He smoothed back his hair, then shook it back out, hoping for a messy look.

“Hello, Granger.” He leaned against the stack and tried to smile normally. Without the usual Granger-reserved smirk.

She looked over at him. She took in his easy pose and his odd smile and raised a brow.

“Are you next in line?”

His eyes widened, and he coughed. “I… I mean,” he stammered.

“Save it, Malfoy,” she said, and pulled the book off the shelf. “I won’t be your little ‘experiment.’ Tell the rest of the Slytherins to leave me alone, too.”

She moved away, back to her table. He stood, dumbfounded, still leaning against the stack. He jerked when she disappeared from view, and strode quickly to find her.

“Who’s giving you trouble?”

She stood next to her table, referencing her list of books she was pulling. She didn’t look up at him when she said, “Well, Nott is ready to try again, now that he knows that there’s ‘fame and glory’ waiting for him. And Harper has tried walking me to Hogsmeade—”

Draco’s eyes squinted. “Harper? He couldn’t find a G-spot with a locator spell.”

“And you could?” She looked at him from over her shoulder.

He gave her a look that said “of course.”

“It’s not just the Slytherins. I’ve had other boys approach me due to the Slytherins’ big mouths. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“That wasn’t me. That was Blaise.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, then, thank you for not participating and not fueling the rumor mill.”

Draco turned his eyes down on the table. She faced him.

“Look Malfoy, what do you think you’re going to get out of me.”

“An orgasm.”

She chuckled. It was like the laugh bubbled from her chest, and her smile appeared unbidden. Like she hadn’t meant to laugh, but she actually found it all very funny.

“Wonderful,” she quipped.

“Multiple, actually.”

She laughed again, less taken by surprise this time. He’d never seen her smile like that before.

“And you’re up to the task, Malfoy?” She turned to him and crossed her arms over the book in front of her chest.

“Yes.”

“And if I told you that the closest I’d ever gotten to getting off wasn’t with penetration, it was with his mouth on me?”

She lifted a brow at him. He swallowed.

“I’d say ‘Lead the way to the Restricted Section.’”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “And the second closest I’d gotten was when the guy didn’t get to come at all?”

He blinked at her. “That’s fine.”

“Or when he was tied up, blindfolded, and whipped, and I got to be in complete control, using a strap-on on him?”

Draco's cheeks were warm. She stared at him, holding his gaze. “I’d say,” he began, voice cracking, “’Tell me when to meet you at the Room of Requirement.’” 

She snorted. “You’re really invested, aren’t you?” She moved around him, heading toward the back wall. He followed. “All this just to claim you made the Gryffindor Lioness purr?”

“Were any of those situations real? Have you really…” He couldn’t bring himself to repeat what she’d said about the… bondage.

“Not really.” She smiled. “I mean I’ve tried a few BDSM things here and there, and of course it’s great for a guy to go down on me…”

Draco looked over his shoulder as he followed her. He couldn’t believe she was talking about this. In a _library._

“But nothing that got me there,” she finished.

He swallowed. “Right. What else have you tried? Or what’s worked best?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder as she stopped in front of a shelf. “I’ve tried just about everything one can try by themselves…”

Draco’s mind took a small vacation. Hermione Granger in her four-poster, with her curtains drawn and a silencing spell cast –

“And I have tried it with a girl, but I didn’t like that as much.”

Draco’s mind took a long sabbatical. 

“With who?” he asked. He felt his neck getting hot.

She looked over at him as she pulled another book from the shelf. She raised a brow and smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She started moving down the shelf, looking for another book. He did. He did really want to know.

He refocused. Fifty percent of the problem had vanished, he realized, so he went with that. “So, you’re sure you like men best?”

“Yes, pretty sure.”

“What is it you like about men?”

She looked over at him, and for the first time her cheeks turned pink. Interesting.

“What do I like about them?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Well…” She turned to look back at the books. She took a moment to think, and Draco took a moment to study the lines of her neck.

“I guess I like that they’re bigger than me. Their height and their chests.” 

Draco resisted the sudden urge to stand tall. 

“You could find a tall woman. A broad woman,” he suggested.

“Hm, yes.” She stared at the books. She pursed her lips and shook her head slightly. “I didn’t care much for the other girl’s breasts though when we were together. They’re lovely to stare at sometimes, but I didn’t really do anything with them.”

Draco swallowed before he asked, “What else about men then?”

“I guess…” She looked down at her feet as she thought. “I like their bodies. The muscles. Women have lovely soft curves but that’s not what I fantasize about.”

Draco really should have planned better for this conversation. He had honestly expected to talk to her, get her to commit to a time and place, and leave. Not discuss sex and Granger in bed with a girl and what she likes and what she fantasizes about –

“I think I just like the masculine energy, you know?” She looked up at him, expecting him to agree. 

He didn’t know. But he maybe understood. “Do you like to be dominated?” She pursed her lips at him, like she was ready to end the conversation. “I only mean, because of the masculine energy thing. I guess, maybe I mean, do you like to be taken care of. In bed. Or do you like being in charge?”

She blinked at him. “Not really one way or the other.” She stared at the book in her hands, like she was really thinking. She pulled her lip between her teeth in a mindless way that had Draco’s hands sweating.

“Have you ever done it in the library?” he asked, without censoring his mouth at all. He waited for her to roll her eyes and tell him to bugger off.

“Yes.”

She turned and headed to a different stack of books, without even a blush on her cheeks. Draco narrowed his eyes.

“With who?!”

She turned to look at him. “Zabini.”

He felt ice in his veins. Zabini had stolen something from him he didn’t even know he wanted.

“How?” he found himself asking. 

She scoffed at him. “ _How?_ ”

“Yeah, I wanna know what he did wrong.”

She smiled and pulled a gold book down from a high shelf. “He didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “Malfoy, I’m telling you. It’s just something that’s a part of my biology. It’s rather funny watching all of you try to ‘earn’ something you can’t have though.”

She laughed a bit. He blushed and stepped toward her. “I’d like to try. If you’ll let me.”

She looked up at him. He was one step away from her, so she had to tilt her neck a bit to see his eyes. There was something strange in her expression, like a curiosity or a wariness.

He narrowed his eyes at her, and tried, “Or even if you won’t let me.” He let his eyes darken with sinister thoughts, and he stepped in to her again. She frowned at him, and her curiosity was gone. He relaxed.

“I’ve already tried non-consensual fantasies. Not my style.” She bit the inside of her cheek and reached for the book. His arm jumped and reached for it first. 

“Okay,” he said, handing her the heavy book. She stared at him, and he watched her eyes flit between his, feeling the heat from her body.

“Is there money on this?”

He blinked and his vision was clear again. “Money?”

“Some kind of bet to see who can make me scream first?” Her eyes were cold. They’d been almost warm a moment ago.

“Not that I’m in on.”

“So, you’re really just interested in the glory of it?” She said it so condescending.

“Actually,” he said, shrugging, “I’m in it for the academics now.” He smiled at her, teasing her. “Research and trial and error. All very interesting to me.”

She rolled her eyes. She smirked and said, “Trial and error? Who says you’re getting a set of ‘trials.’ What if you only have one shot?”

He licked his lips and was surprised when her eyes drifted down to them. “Then I better get it right the first time.” 

Draco reached for the books she held at her hip and carefully removed them, interested to find that she didn’t stop him. He kept his eyes on hers as he bent to place them on the floor next to her feet. He stood tall again, and gently touched her hip, turning her until her back was against the stacks.

She moved easily, but looked away from him. “Here? Zabini had the decency to take me to the Restricted Section,” she teased, but he could tell that she was nervous.

“Ah, but that didn’t work, did it?” he said, coming to stand in front of her. “Trial and error.”

She looked around quickly. There hadn’t been a single person near them since they began talking in the other section of the library. Saturday night.

Before she could argue, he stepped in closer to her, causing her to look up at him. Taller and wider, he remembered. He slowly dropped to his knees in front of her. Her eyes went wide, which he thought was interesting, seeing as how she was probably more experienced than he was at this point.

Draco kept watch on her face, looking for her to deny him. She bit her lip. He placed his hand on her calf, wrapping his fingers around the slope of it. He dipped his head, and pressed his lips against her right knee. He felt her hips shift.

“What if someone sees?” 

He looked up at her, keeping his mouth close to her skin. “I hope they do.” He smirked as she looked down at him and saw her shiver as his breath hit her knee. 

He held her eyes and pressed another light kiss above her knee. Her lashes fluttered, and the mix of curiosity and wariness was back.

She said nothing so he kissed her a little higher. From this angle, he could watch her chest move in and out. He kissed closer to mid-thigh, right under her skirt. His right hand moved up her calf, sliding along the back of her leg, and coming forward to play with the hem of her skirt, starting to lift up –

“You can’t be angry with me when it doesn’t work.”

His hand froze, and his eyes snapped to hers.

“ _When?_ ” He tried arrogance.

She just nodded. “It will be nobody’s fault, so you can’t take it out on me.”

He blinked up at her. “Of course.”

She took a deep breath, leaned her head back on the shelf, and closed her eyes.

Draco smiled at her skirt hem. He placed his left hand on her other calf, sliding up until it was at the hem of her skirt on the other side. He paused once to kiss her other knee, and then used both hands to push her skirt up. She pressed her thighs together just as he got to the top of her legs, and Draco smiled. Until he saw her plain white knickers. 

He swallowed. Just like Granger. She’s done it with a girl, tried some BDSM shit, done it in the Restricted Section, but she’s still wearing exactly what you’d expect underneath her skirt. He wasn’t sure if he would have been more shocked to find a lacy red thong, or even _no_ underwear. But he was definitely warm thinking of her still wearing this kind. Like she had never been touched by another.

His hands still held her skirt up, fingers on her hipbones. She held her thighs together tight, and her hips were almost tilted away from him. He pressed his mouth to the top of her mound, his nose brushing the top of her knickers, and he felt the muscles in her hips and thighs squeeze. He looked up at her and her eyes were closed, lip pulled between her teeth.

He could smell her. She was already getting wet. He kissed her there again, and smiled against her. 

This was going to work. 

He lifted her skirt higher, tucking the front of it into the waistband. He didn’t want to disappear under it. He’d like to see as much of this as possible. 

He kissed the top of her thigh, right next to the fabric of her knickers, letting his tongue slip out and press against her there. He heard her take a breath. He closed his mouth around the spot, sucking gently, nipping lightly, and pulling at the skin. He repeated the same action on the other thigh. 

Her thighs were still shut, and while he could ask her to open them, he’d rather let her do it herself. 

He pressed his mouth over her knickers again, same spot, but this time he sucked the fabric, and pressed his tongue against it. His hands traveled back down from her waistband, and settled on the width of her hips, fingers pressing light circles into her backside.

He lowered his mouth and kissed her right over her clit. 

And her thighs opened. And her hands grabbed the shelf. 

Frigid, she was not. 

He slid his hands over her hips, bringing his thumbs to center. He swiped them down, grazing her clit and down to her core. He brought them back up the same path, over and over, on top of the fabric, letting his palms slide against her thighs as they journeyed.

He looked up at her. Her face was pink, and she wet her lips with her tongue. Her eyes were still closed, but her chest moved out and in, and he wanted her so badly to open her shirt. But that would be for him. Not for her.

He looked back down at her hips, tilting toward him now. Somehow her feet had come to be on either side of his knees, and she was leaning back on the shelves. 

He was hard already. Maybe if she came, she’d let him have her.

His cock jumped at the thought of bending her over one of the library tables, or just right here against these shelves.

His lips pressed against her clit again, and a soft sound came from her lips. He let his tongue press against her, and then run from where she was wettest, to where her clit should be. He took his time, slipping up over the fabric of her knickers, and every path he started she let out a small sigh. 

He wondered if she’d be loud when she finally came. He should have silenced the area, but then he realized he didn’t care. He wanted everyone to know that he made her scream.

She heaved a breath above him. He had been pressing harder and harder on each swipe up, thinking about her screaming his name. His tongue was practically inside of her except for the wet knickers between them. 

He reached up and started to roll them down, finding it hard to breathe as her pretty pink pussy appeared. She was glistening. Her knickers were barely down to her knees when he abandoned them and reached up to pull her lips apart. She gasped and he bent to continue the pattern he started over her knickers. 

Her hips swung forward. He groaned into her and she gasped. One of her hands left the shelf and grabbed his head, gripping his hair. He took a deep breath before she pressed him against her. 

He pulled her left knee up, and swung it over his shoulder. She gripped him harder. And his tongue dipped into her for the first time. 

“Oh, god.” 

He pushed in and out of her, desperate to hear her make more noises for him.

“Mmm. Please.”

His fingers found her clit and rubbed. Her hips slipped forward and then back, slapping against the shelves. His finger circled around her while his tongue dipped slower and she groaned, pressing his face against her. 

He needed air but she was close. He knew it. His own hips began thrusting against nothing, and he wanted to pull himself out and wrap around himself, but he needed to focus on her. 

He pulled away from her, even with her impressive grip on his head, took in air, and looked up at her face. The hand not on his head was pulling at her breast through her shirt, and he wanted to see them. 

“Take off your shirt. Open it. Whatever.”

She opened her eyes and he didn’t expect to see the heat explode in them once she saw him. She gasped, even though he wasn’t currently touching her. He had her all over his face. And he tried licking his lips for her. She pressed her lips together and moaned.

“Take if off. I want to watch you play with your tits, Granger.”

She brought her hands to the top buttons and started moving through them slowly. He watched her, but let one of his thumbs slide through her lips, up and down, stopping just before finding her clit. 

Her bra was white too. How dare she. He let out a deep breath, and she gasped. He’d breathed right against her. 

“Keep the bra on. I want to watch you touch yourself.”

His voice was low and slick with her cum, and she nodded slowly and brought her fingers to her breasts, circling them. He moved his thumb up, and started circling her clit. She groaned, and his cock jumped.

She only completed three more circles before she started flicking her thumbs over her nipples, up and down. He copied the motion for her clit.

“Yes, god. Please.”

She moved faster on her nipples and he could see them pointed hard through the bra. He kept the same slower pace on her clit, just to see—

“Malfoy, please.”

He swallowed. He dropped his mouth to her clit and let his tongue do what her hands were. She moaned, a choked sound. She pulled at her tits with her fingers, pulling the peaks through the bra and plucking them like strings. He closed his mouth around her and sucked, tonguing her. 

She flung her head back and reached for his head again, both hands pressing into his hair, holding him still while her hips moved. She let out little grunts on each thrust, fucking his face and pulling his hair until it hurt.

This witch would make him come in his trousers. 

He slid a finger inside of her, and she panted. He found a good angle and got his second finger inside, loving how tight she was. Her hips moved into a different motion, moving down on his fingers, allowing him to take a breath and come back to her clit.

He licked at her as he pressed into her heat, pushing up and curling against her. She moaned. She was so close.

He continued this. Licking at her, fucking her with his fingers, and letting her hips stutter against his face. Her hands went back to her breasts. 

After thirty more seconds of this, he tried a third finger inside of her. She cried out. He curled them. She gasped. He flicked her clit. She keened. 

He pulled his mouth away, jaw tense. He tried to relax his muscles while he finger-fucked her. She was pulling at her tits again, eyes closed, hair a mess. 

“Come on, Granger.”

She pressed her lips together, and squeezed her eyes closed. 

“You look beautiful like this,” he whispered. She opened her mouth, gasping. “Dripping down my hand, fucking my face, and playing with your tits.”

Her fingers squeezed tighter on her breasts and she groaned. He saw her jaw clench. He brought his other hand to flick her clit once and the skin around her eyes pulled tight, squeezing. He curled his fingers inside of her and he finally realized the groan, the muscles clenching – it wasn’t pleasure. 

He dipped his head to lick at her clit again and she bit her lip, face squeezed tight. 

“Granger?”

“I can do this.” She gasped. “Keep going. I know I’m close.”

He watched as she pulled frantically at her nipples, biting her lip. His fingers changed their rhythm. She flinched. He pulled his hand away and started softly kissing at her hips. Then slow dips of his tongue, to long swipes against all of her. This lasted another five minutes.

He looked up and she had stopped playing with herself. She was looking down at him, face flushed, hair stuck to her face. He watched her as he gave another long slow swipe. Her eyes were empty. 

“I think I’m done.”

He pulled away from her and wiped his hand on his sleeve. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the waves came and left. No tsunami.” She looked away. 

He stood up, body aching. “That doesn’t mean you’re done.” His eyes were fierce and she lifted a brow.

“I told you you couldn’t be angry with me.” 

“I’m not! I’m –“ He stopped. He was angry. He took a breath and looked at her, shirt open, bra covering perfect mounds.

He reached up, and softly cupped one of them, running his thumb over her. He looked at her face and she was watching him. He brought his other hand up, and repeated the action to her other breast. 

He was still hard in his trousers, and he could feel the heat from her naked hips.

He slid his hands around the band of her bra, asking her with his eyes if he could. She nodded.

He unclasped it, and slid it off her shoulders. Dusky nipples, already pointing towards him. His hands slid around her again, holding the weight of each breast in his palms, but ignoring the peaks. He looked at her face, and she was closing her eyes again, licking her lips. He circled her nipples, like she had done earlier. Her mouth dropped open and she arched her chest forward a just a bit.

He smiled as her tits were offered to him. He kept his eyes on her face as he bent and licked the tip of her left breast. 

She gasped, and her eyes opened, looking down at him. He pressed his tongue against her, and then closed his mouth around her. Her arms came up, holding onto his elbows. He moved to her other breast, this time blowing cool air on her. He felt her press her thighs together.

She watched him as he stood tall again, almost pressing against her, and flicked both of her nipples with his thumbs. She gasped. He leaned his face close to hers and her eyes widened. His thumbs swept circles and figure-eights, and she breathed in his breath. 

He leaned forward and at the last second moved to her neck, moving quickly against her, pressing his lips against her shoulder and continuing to flick her breasts. He stepped into her and pressed himself against her stomach. She gasped and he sucked her skin. He used his tongue on her neck and nipped with his teeth, and her hands slid around his elbows and to his shoulders. 

He pressed his hips against her again, and she squeezed at his shoulders. He flicked her breasts and rolled her between his fingers and she breathed against his neck. His hands glided to her ribcage and he pulled her up, pressing his hips forward, and she wrapped her legs around him. He thrust against her slowly, his trousers still on, but he felt her wetness seeping through. 

Mouth still attached to her neck, he slid his arms around her back and cushioned where her skin had been pressed against the shelves. He tilted his hips against her again, and she groaned.

He pulled back to look at her. It wasn’t a pleasure groan. 

“I think…” She bit her lip. “I think I’m too sensitive right now. Over-stimulated.”

She looked away from him. Her cheeks were red. 

“Okay,” he said. “We can try something else.”

“No, I think I’m done.”

She pressed her lips together and let her legs drop. He felt a wave of disappointment run through him.

“I can do other things—“

“No, of course you can,” she cut him off. She looked up with an open face and even placed her hand on his cheek. “Remember, it’s not you. It’s me.”

“You can’t just give up!” His eyes were hot and she held his face.

“The problem is that you came here with the express purpose of doing something impossible,” she tried to explain. “That’s why you’re angry right now.”

“No!” He stuttered for a beat. “It’s… it’s…”

“It’s okay, Malfoy.” She raised a brow. “I can still take care of you?” He felt her hand slide against the front of his trousers, and his cock jumped against her even as his brain pushed him away.

He stepped back. “No! How is that fair!” He stared at her with wide eyes. “I shouldn’t get to come if you don’t!”

She laughed. She actually laughed. “That’s a first.” She smiled. She crossed her arms over her naked chest.

Draco realized that boys like Blaise, Theo, even a few faceless girls had gotten off with Hermione Granger while she just laid there. 

“You’re not a _hole_ for us to try our luck on!”

Her jaw dropped like she was going to fight him, before realizing he was saying something sort of nice.

“No!” He adjusted himself in his pants. “Meet me back here tomorrow, Granger and we’ll try something new.” He started to march off then turned back, pausing in front of her. He reached for her arms and gently pulled them down from her chest.

He took in the sight of her nipples, still peaked from earlier or the temperature. He tilted his head at the blush on her chest. He reached forward, and lifted one breast, memorizing the weight of it.

“What are you doing?” 

He looked up at her face, giving him that curious wariness again. “I’m gonna wank off to your tits, Granger. I need a good visual aid.”

She blinked at him.

He tweaked the breast in her hand, and she sucked in air. 

He marched out of the library as well as he could in that state, and headed for the broom closet just a corridor away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has become common knowledge that Hermione Granger cannot have an orgasm. Many have tried, none have succeeded. Can Draco Malfoy offer his assistance? // 8th Year AU - WIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited by all the positive responses to this! Thanks to everyone who is reading and to those who take a moment to leave comments!

By the time Draco found her in the library on Sunday evening, he had taken care of himself twice already that day. And he had a new plan.

“I was too arrogant yesterday.”

She was hunched over a text, quill scurrying across her notes. She looked up when he spoke and blinked at him. “Really.” she said, flatly.

“Yes. I let my pride get in the way of the project.” He swiftly sat next to her and found her eyes. “I thought I could get you off in fifteen minutes, in the library, in a standing position. And if I had, I would have been ecstatic, mind you. I’d have all that – what did you call it – _fame and glory,_ but that’s not the way to go about this.”

She pressed her lips together. “What _is_ the way to go about this?”

“Well, I did some reading this morning from the few sex books the library has, and it said something about enjoying the _journey,_ not concentrating on the _destination_.” He smiled brightly at her, like he’d solved all the problems in Europe. He could almost see her lips pull into a smile before she turned away from him.

“I’ve heard that one before. ‘It’s a marathon, not a sprint,’ yes?” She quirked her brow.

He frowned at her. “Those must be Muggle phrases.” 

“Yes, they are. Means the same, I suppose.”

“Well, regardless” – he waved his hand like he was resetting the air – “I have a few new techniques to try.”

Granger swallowed, and tried to concentrate on her notes. “I never said you could have a trial and error period.” She looked up at him and brushed her hair behind her ear. “In fact, I remember you saying you’d ‘get it right the first time.’”

He blinked at her. “You’re joking.”

She raised a brow at him. “You don’t remember saying that?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m offering you statistical research, data analysis, trial and error, and – most importantly – a willing partner! It should be your wet dream! How are you not creaming your knickers right now, Granger!”

“Lower your voice!” She looked around the vacant library. “While I find the whole thing rather interesting, you must have noticed that I have plenty of ‘willing partners.’” She leveled her eyes on him. “Maybe I’m conducting my own experiments.”

“Yeah? How’s that going for you?” he shot at her. She shut her mouth, and glared at him. She turned back to her notes. He scooted his chair closer to her, and lowered his voice to something smooth and sly. “Granger, did you like what we did last night?”

She jumped, and her quill scratched across the library book she was perusing. He muttered the ink reversal charm and the mark went away. She bit the inside of her cheek.

“Yes, it was fine.” She kept her eyes on her notes.

“If 10 is an orgasm, and 9 is the closest you’ve gotten, where did last night land on that scale?” he whispered to her.

She frowned. “Mmm, 6 maybe.” She looked up at him, testing him.

He glowered at her. “8 at _least._ I’d venture an 8.5, yes?”

“I’ll settle for 7.75,” she said.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “And what’s the longest a bloke has spent going down on you?”

She looked around for other students near them, and blushed when she said, “Twenty minutes. Thirty maybe.” She trained her eyes on her notes. 

He smiled at her. “Brilliant. Meet me in the Room of Requirement in half an hour.” He stood from his chair with a flourish.

She frowned at him. “For what?”

He turned and grinned at her. “I’m going to give you a 7.75 for an hour, maybe two if you’re lucky.” He winked at her, and her jaw dropped as he turned around.

“Malfoy. I’m studying. I’m very busy –“

“Bring your book, Granger.” He smirked at her. “I’ll be taking my time.”

He walked out of the library, smiling to himself. 

Forty minutes later she showed up at the Room of Requirement. He had a bed laid out for her, and a cushion at the edge of it for him to kneel on. 

She was hesitant about laying down, but he massaged her legs, her hip muscles. He spent a quarter of an hour kissing and sucking on her legs and her hips and her stomach. When he finally put his mouth on her, she was wet. He started slow on her, licking and light pressure. She ran her fingers through his hair and tried to ride his face again, but any time she tried to push against him and take control, he gently moved her hands away. She huffed and squirmed, and since they weren’t in the library, Draco got to hear all sorts of noises from her mouth. She clamped her thighs closed over his ears at one point, and tried to get him to move faster, and he pried them apart until they were flat against the bed again, and continued to move in little figure-eights against her clit. She cursed at him, throwing obscenities around the room and grabbed his hair, trying to pull his face away from her. He held onto her thighs and finally moved his tongue faster. He pinned her hands down on either side of her body, and she moaned and bucked against his mouth as he moved his tongue against her, quick and firm for ten minutes. Ten minutes of her pushing her hips against his mouth, her slick juices continuing to slide out of her. Ten minutes of her moaning little sounds, pleading for it. Ten minutes of her ragged breathing, and telling him to continue _just like that_ and _don’t change it_ and _please, Malfoy!_

He let go of one of her hands and thrust two fingers inside of her. She cried and thanked him, and he curled his fingers against her, searching and pressing and listening as he found the spot inside of her that would do it. She could only take five minutes of that before she finally grabbed his hair with her free hand, and pulled his face away from her. 

“Stop. Please stop.”

“Are you sure?” he gasped against her stomach.

“Please stop.”

Her hair was a mess. She looked thoroughly fucked. Only she wasn’t. She hadn’t come.

He pulled back from her, wiping his mouth, and releasing her other hand that he’d pinned down on the bed next to her hip. She squeezed it before pulling it up to run across her face. 

“Tell me. Tell me what it feels like. What do you think you need?”

She gasped and pushed her fingers through her hair, staring at the ceiling.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“What else could I have been doing? Your tits? Or we could get a vibrating toy that Muggles use?”

“I don’t know,” she said. 

“Was it better this time?” he asked, standing to take in her body laid out on a bed. 

“Yes,” she wheezed. “9.5 actually.” She smiled at the ceiling.

Draco felt heat flow through his limbs, and his aching jaw dropped. “Do you want me to keep going?”

“No, please, don’t,” she said. She closed her legs for good measure. “It’s starting to hurt, actually.”

He nodded at her.

She brought her hands over her face. “I can’t believe I just told you it was a 9.5. I’ll never get rid of you now.”

He smirked at her, letting his eyes travel over her naked half. They’d left her shirt alone this time.

She sat up, pushing her skirt down over her hips. His eyes flipped back up to her face. She was staring down at his crotch. He knew he was hard. Her eyes slid back up to him, and before she could ask about him finishing, he leaned down, grabbed her knickers (white cotton again), put them in his pocket, and said, “See you tomorrow, Granger.”

She gaped at him and he smiled with his teeth.

~*~

He came in an empty classroom on the first floor, her knickers wrapped around his cock. Then he burned them.

~*~

When he got back to the common room, Blaise and Theo were playing Wizard’s Chest.

“You look like you had fun,” Blaise said.

Draco frowned at him, and checked his reflection in the mirror above the fireplace. His hair was mussed from where she’d twisted her fingers. His face was still pink from his exertions. And his tie was loose and top buttons undone.

“And so I did,” Draco said. He moved toward the stairs to the dormitories, intending to ice his jaw.

“Who’s the lucky bird?” Blaise called, as his one of his pieces blasted apart one of Theo’s.

Draco stopped, his foot on the stairs. “A Ravenclaw.”

Blaise looked up at him, lifting his brows. “Which one?”

Theo looked up. Draco paused.

“Don’t know her name.” Draco smiled. He started to climb the stairs again.

“Oi! Draco,” Theo called. “Are you going to give Granger a go?”

He froze on the steps, just past their sightline, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

He jumped back down the stairs. “Sounds a bit hopeless, doesn’t it? No bloke’s been able to get her to come.” He dropped himself into an armchair.

“But that bit doesn’t really matter,” Blaise said, tilting his head at him. “The point is that _she’s_ still trying to get off. With whoever wants a go.” He lifted a haughty brow at him. Draco concentrated on his amused face as something simmered below his skin. “Almost like a free pass, isn’t it? Don’t have to worry about getting her off before you.”

Draco swallowed. He thought he saw the corner of Blaise’s lips tug upwards. He needed to look away from Blaise’s clever eyes.

“What about you, Theo? Did she say she’d give you another go?” Draco asked, running his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, said maybe next weekend.” Theo had his head in his hand, staring at the chessboard.

Draco blinked. Five days. If he could get her off in five days, she wouldn’t have to sleep with anyone else –

Draco shook his head. “Well, best of luck there.” He stood and stretched. “She sounds like a lot of trouble for one bloke.” He flashed them a grin and headed to the stairs.

“Bloody fantastic shag, though,” Theo said absently.

“Absolutely is,” Blaise said, louder than Draco thought was necessary.

~*~

As eighth years, they were able to take a variety of elective subjects, providing they could test out of the seventh year mandatory classes. This meant their weekly schedules could be quite strange. For instance, Draco had no classes before noon on Mondays, but he had full days on Tuesdays, only morning classes on Wednesdays, only evening classes on Thursdays, and full days on Fridays.

Granger, having tested out of several classes herself, also had no classes on Monday mornings. Not that Draco already knew this, of course. He just happened to know that she stayed after breakfast in the Great Hall, reading and munching and drinking coffee. 

Draco usually skipped breakfast on Mondays, but that day he wound his way up the stairs and through the busy Entrance Hall as students were headed to their first classes. When he entered the Great Hall, he scanned until he found her, halfway down the table closest to the east wall, facing the room, reading a book and buttering a piece of toast.

There were only about fifteen students scattered throughout the tables, some seventh and eighth years with similar schedules, a first year who’d fallen asleep next to his eggs, and some third years who had taken advantage of the elective system and found a way to not have classes first thing Mondays.

All the professors had left for teaching or rounds. 

It would be perfectly safe to approach her, without causing any suspicion. 

He dropped next to her on the bench, on her left, swinging his legs over one by one. 

“I did more research.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a book from the library and a quill and parchment.

She took a deep contemplative breath next to him. “Good morning, Malfoy.” Her teeth tore into her toast.

“What do you think about when you’re at a 9 – or even last night at a 9.5?” He flourished his quill and waited.

Her eyes widened at her book. She pressed her lips together. “What do I think about?”

“Yes, what’s running through your mind? Is there a fantasy you play as you reach higher? A face? Perhaps a shirtless Gilderoy Lockhart is announcing your N.E.W.T. scores to the flock of house elves you’ve freed?”

Her jaw dropped and she scowled at him, meeting his eyes for the first time. “You think _that’s_ how I get off?”

“No, I’m thinking you _don’t_ get off, so maybe you should _try_ that one,” he said matter-of-factly.

She slammed her book shut, and started to pack up her things.

“Granger, sit down. I’m just trying to give you an orgasm.”

She snapped her head to him. “You have a funny way of doing it!” she hissed.

“What, you mean, on my knees with my tongue inside you for an hour and a half?”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself,” she laughed. “It couldn’t have been more than an hour.”

“I would have gone for two if you had let me!” 

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “What is your _masterplan_ this time, Malfoy.”

“Well, I was reading a _delightful_ little book that has no business being found in a library at a school,” he said, tapping the book in front of him, “and it detailed several sex positions that are beneficial for achieving orgasm.”

Granger blushed brightly. “And what did you find?”

“Glad you asked!” He flipped open the book with a grand gesture. “We have the ever-popular Doggy Style.” He pointed down at the page where moving cartoons were demonstrating. He turned the page and said, “And then the Hippogriff. And the _Reverse_ Hippogriff –“

Granger pulled the book towards her. “The Hippogriff?” She watched the cartoons move. “That’s the Cowgirl and the Reverse Cowgirl.” She narrowed her eyes.

“So can I gather that you know these positions?” Malfoy asked, much too chipper. 

She glared at him. “Yes. They’re pretty standard.”

“Wonderful!” He wrote on the parchment in front of him _Hippogriff_ and _Reverse Hippogriff_.

She watched him write, and chewed on her lip. “What is this list for?”

“Positions for us to try,” Draco chirped back. 

She took a deep breath next to him. She flipped the pages, looking at the cartoons. 

“A lot of these are standard, they’ve just given them more magical names.” She turned a page. “Though I’m not sure what Mandrakes have to do with this one…”

“So you’ve tried a lot of these? Do you have favorites?” Draco eyes sparkled as she looked up at him from the cartoons doing “The Mandrake.”

“Er, yes,” she said. “Sort of.”

“Wonderful. You can add to this list here.”

She swallowed and nodded. “So, you want to… start with these then? I have Astronomy Class tonight, so I won’t… er, I won’t be free,” she stammered. 

“Tomorrow then?” Draco said. And her eyes slid to him. “After dinner. I’ll meet you in the Room of Requirement again. Now,” he continued, “there’s another hurdle I think we need to jump over to really be successful.” He stared at her with wide eyes. “Your fantasy.”

She looked down at her plate, picking at her half-eaten toast. “My fantasy?”

“You’re incredible bright and your brain probably travels faster than your body can keep up,” he said. “We need to stimulate your _mind,_ Granger.” 

She blinked at him. “Okay.”

“So, when you’re at a 9, what do you think about?” He looked at her, waiting.

“How nice it would be to be at a 10?” she said drily. 

“And that’s exactly the problem.” He smiled, like he knew she was going to say that. She frowned at him. “Remember, it’s the _journey,_ not the destination. When you get to a 9 – or a 9.5” – he smirked – “you start thinking about the destination!”

Granger scowled at him. “You have no idea what’s going on in my head, Malfoy, and I beg you to not assume anything about me.”

“Then let’s discuss!” He grabbed up the quill. “So, what is it that you fantasize about when you’re alone? What’s gotten you close?”

He brought his quill to the parchment and looked up at her expectantly.

She let out a little laugh, and looked around the Great Hall, checking for nearby students. She had a blush making its way up her jaw.

He squinted at her. So strange. She could talk freely in the library on a Saturday night, but she was blushing and stammering here with no one listening in.

“I suppose… I suppose when I’m alone, I think of a man with me.”

“Great. Go on.” Draco wrote _man_ on the parchment. “What does he look like?” He watched her quirk an eyebrow at his “notes.” 

“Er, nothing specific, really…” She pushed a lock of hair over her ear.

“But tall and broad, yes?” he said, remembering her preferences discussed on Saturday night.

She looked into his eyes. Her lashes fluttered briefly before she nodded. He wrote _tall_ and then _broad_ underneath it.

“Hard muscles? You said you preferred that over the soft curves of women?”

“Yes, I suppose.” She took a drink of her coffee, as he wrote _hard muscles_ on the list.

“What else?”

She looked at the parchment, and shrugged, opening and closing her mouth.

“Granger. This is the most generic list – I mean, I could walk up to every straight girl in Hogwarts right now and they’d all say, ‘Yep, those are my basics as well!’” Granger huffed. “Next, you’ll tell me to just boil it down to ‘tall, dark, and handsome!’”

“They’re clichés for a reason!” She glared at him, and turned back to her toast, rolling her eyes. “I – I don’t know what to tell you, Malfoy! I don’t imagine anyone specific!”

“Well, let me _help_ you _get_ specific!” He scooted closer to her, swinging one leg over the bench, straddling it and facing her. He twisted his torso to keep writing on the table. “What about eyes?”

She sighed, resigned to Malfoy spoiling her breakfast. “What about them?”

“Light or dark? Or stupid colors like Potter’s?”

She scrunched her nose. “I don’t have a preference.”

“Granger, we’re building the perfect man here. Wand-to-your-head, would you rather have a blue-eyed bloke thrusting into you, dark eyes looking up from where he’s eating your delicious pussy, or some crazy orange, purple, ugly emerald green—“

“Light! Light colored eyes. Are you happy?!” She growled at him, making sure to keep her gaze on her toast. 

“Excellent! This is excellent progress, Granger!” 

He scribbled _light eyes_ underneath _hard muscles_ with glee. “Hair color?”

“Dark,” she barked out immediately. “And curly.” She had begun tearing little pieces off her toast, and then making smaller pieces. 

Draco was less ecstatic about writing these details. He looked at the list. “Granger, you’ve created a perfect combination of both Weasley and Potter.”

“What?! No I haven’t!” She dropped the toast she was tearing apart and grabbed the parchment from him. “Not in the least!”

“Light eyes and curly hair like Weasley. Dark like Potter.” Draco smirked, but felt a twisting in his gut. “Weasley’s got the height and Potter’s got the broad shoulders. Though I’m sure neither of them have the muscles you’re looking for –“

“This is… this is wrong. I don’t even have a preference for any of this. I just said the first thing in my head to make you shut up,” she grumbled. 

Draco shrugged. “It’s fine if you’re fantasizing about the two of them. Possibly at the same time?”

“No!” The shout rang through the Great Hall, and several people looked over at them before Hermione gave them a nervous smile. She looked back at Draco and met his eyes for the first time since they’d started this list. “Harry’s like a brother to me. I have never had any sort of fantasy about him.”

“And Weasley?” Draco hissed the name, like it was foul in his mouth.

“Ron… Well, I’ve come to find that Ron isn’t anything to fantasize about either.” She looked back down at her toast.

Draco smiled. Then dropped it and refocused. “So, you _have_ been together?”

“Yes. Just this past summer. We tried dating, after the Battle, after everything settled down. It was… nice, for a bit.” She shrugged one shoulder, and he watched as her fingers rubbed the bread into small crumbles.

“And you started sleeping together?”

She nodded, and took a breath. “The first time was nice. Like coming home after a long day,” she said, smiling a bit. “But the second time was the same. And the third. And when I finally asked him to try something new, to maybe change positions, or try it in the shower instead of the bed… I told him that those are things I’ve liked in the _past_.” She pressed her lips together. “And he…”

Draco watched her eyes glaze a bit, and her lips move with no sound.

“He thought he was your first?”

She snapped her eyes to him. Wide and brown and innocent almost. She nodded. 

“It was… quite a fight. Appparently, I should have told him. Which I guess, sure. Maybe.” She shook her head. “So, I told him about Krum, which upset him. Then McLaggen, which upset him more—“

“Cormac McLaggen?” Draco’s brow rose, and he felt a sudden kinship with Weasley in his stomach.

“Mm-hmm. Sixth year. Which I reminded him was also when _he_ had been sleeping with Lavender Brown – rest her soul – so _why_ was it a big deal –“ Her neck was flushed, and her fingers were ripping apart another piece of toast. She stopped herself. And took a deep breath. 

Draco watched the anger leave her, and missed it dearly.

“So, we got past that,” she said. “But then the sex was still…”

“Vanilla?” Draco supplied.

She looked at him, and he saw her eyes run over his face quickly. “Worse than vanilla.”

Draco felt pride swell in his chest, knowing that she clearly did not think that _their_ encounters so far had been “vanilla.”

“So, I tried to tell him what I wanted again. Suggesting things. Moving his hands to places I liked and showing him how to touch me…”

Draco was warm. He wanted her to teach _him_ how to touch her. Why hadn’t she taught him yet?

“But he got aggravated,” she continued. “Said, ‘why do you _need_ shower sex, and public sex, and different positions, and I don’t _like_ going down on you.’” She swallowed. “So, I snapped and told him, ‘because you haven’t made me come!’” She laughed a bit, but Draco saw the argument playing out behind her eyes.

“And he got angry,” Draco said.

She nodded, and he heard her words from Saturday night.

_You can’t be angry with me when it doesn’t work._

“We tried for a bit longer,” she said, reaching for her coffee cup. “But the more he tried different things and I still hadn’t orgasmed… the more frustrated he got.” She sipped her coffee. “So, when I came back for the school year, he broke it off. Told me to figure out why I didn’t want him.”

Draco fingers itched. He curled them into fists.

“Is that what you’re doing? Figuring it out?” he asked.

“A bit. Not for him though. For me.” She looked up at the Great Hall, searching for eavesdroppers.

“Would you go back to him. Once you’ve ‘figured it out?’” Draco spit the last part. He would put in all the hard work so that _Weasley_ could reap the rewards?

“No,” Granger said. She looked at him with a calm in her eyes. It calmed him. “He wouldn’t be what I want.” Her eyes dropped to his lips before she looked away. Her eyes landed on the parchment. “What else goes on the list?”

Draco tore his eyes from her mouth. He pulled the parchment to him and in a different column, wrote _public sex_ and _shower sex._

Granger laughed lightly. 

“What about talking?” Draco asked.

“Talking?”

“During sex. Do you like endearments? Little encouragements?”

“I guess so.” She was much more comfortable with these questions now, he noticed. She grinned at him. “Like, ‘oh baby, just like that. Baby, you feel so good?’” She said it with just a touch of sincerity and a slight rasp to her voice, but still smirking at him. Teasing him.

He raised a brow at her. “I was thinking more along the lines of ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love,’ but if you like _‘baby’_ …” He made a face at her.

She looked down at her toast pieces again. “No, no.” She blushed. “’Sweetheart’ and ‘love’ are fine.”

He wrote _sweetheart_ and _love_ on the parchment. “Do you like a lot of talking? Dirty talk?”

She took a breath, looking down at her crumbs. “Possibly. I don’t know.”

“I believe on Saturday night I said something along the lines of ‘You look beautiful dripping down my hand, fucking my face, and touching your tits.’ Did you like that?”

“’ _Playing with_ your tits,’” she corrected him, smirking. “Yes, I liked that.” She smiled at her coffee cup. 

“Would you like to hear more of it?” He heard his voice drop into a register he hardly recognized, but it made her blush creep up her neck onto her cheeks.

She wet her lips with her tongue, and nodded.

“Right now?” he asked. 

Her fingers paused in their pattern on the bread. He let his left hand cross and lightly touch the knee closest to him. She froze. He tapped his quill against the parchment, right against the words _public sex._

She pulled her lip between her teeth, and looked up at the rest of the Great Hall. No one was near them, but there still were students doing homework down the table.

“I – I probably won’t come. I don’t think I’d be comfortable having an orgasm in the middle of the Great Hall. I don’t know how loud I am –“

“It’s alright, Granger. It’s a maragon, not a sprint, remember?”

She grinned, and pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “A marathon, Malfoy.” Draco smiled. 

“Well, sweetheart?” he asked.

The smile dropped off her face, and a deep breath pushed out of her lips. His fingers traced circles around her knee.

She blinked and nodded.

“What kind of dirty talk do you like, love?” He let his fingers travel higher. “Just a little unclean? Or absolutely filthy?”

“I don’t know,” she breathed. 

“Are you wet, Granger?”

This was the right direction. She sucked in a breath. 

“Why don’t you find out?” she responded, and shot him a look that promised him things.

“Oh, fuck me,” Draco whispered to himself, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and when he looked at her again, she was picking up the parchment paper and pulling it closer to her. “Taking notes, love?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He ran his hand up her thigh, under her skirt and cupped her without warning. She jumped. Her knickers were moist. And they were probably white cotton.

“Is all this for me?” he asked, running one finger along her slit, over the wet cotton.

“No,” she said. “Most of it is for a boy with blue eyes and dark curly hair.” She grinned. And started making notes on the parchment.

Draco resisted the urge to drop his head on her shoulder. If she was going to play tit-for-tat, then this was going to be especially hard for him. 

“And how do you want him to touch you, love?” The quill paused mid-word. She swallowed. “Do you like it light and soft at first?” He brushed his fingers down her knickers and back up, swirling lightly over her clit.

“Yes.” The sound was so small. She started writing on the parchment again.

“Then what do you want him to do?”

She bit her lip, and Draco wanted to bite it for her. But they were in the Great Hall. And he supposed he shouldn’t be watching her face like this.

“I want him to touch me,” she whispered. Her face was hot.

“Where?” Draco rasped, still running his fingers lightly along her seam.

“Underneath. Under my knickers.”

He watched gooseflesh rise on her arm as the words came out. 

“Open your legs, love,” he said, and he almost groaned when she immediately obeyed. He wondered about playing dominant and submissive games with her. How quickly she’d obey then.

He moved her knickers aside, and dipped two fingers past her lips, sliding through the slick heat and moving up and back, just missing her bundle of nerves. 

“What do you want him to do now?”

The quill was tapping against the parchment, leaving blots behind. She stared down at the page, letting her breath get heavy and focusing on her inhale. 

“Touch my clit.” Her eyes got wide as soon as she said it, and she looked up to make sure no one had heard her.

Draco moved his fingers up, and grinned as he simply touched her, not moving, not rubbing.

“Like this?”

She glared at the table. “No…”

“How?” he whispered, and watched the hair on her neck move with his words.

She took a deep breath, clenching the quill in her right hand, and moved her left below the table. He thought she was about to push him away, but then her hand ran across his arm, to his wrist, to where he rested against her clit, and she put pressure on his fingers there.

Draco sucked in a breath. He thought… he thought she’d just _tell_ him. Just use words but…

Her hand started moving his fingers beneath hers, moving them in slow circles around the bundle of nerves. She kept the movement slow, and the pressure light, but didn’t remove her hand. He watched as her tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth.

She started writing on the parchment again. And he turned to watch the words form instead of focusing on her lips.

She was adding to his list of positions. He pressed harder against her on accident, and she squeaked. His fingers paused when hers did, and he waited for her to continue. His right hand was squeezing the fabric of his trousers over his knee. He looked around them, for onlookers. Her back was facing the stone wall of the Great Hall, no other tables behind them. He moved his right hand to her lower back and started rubbing large circles over her shirt. 

“Sweetheart?”

She closed her eyes, and sighed silently. Then she started moving his fingers over her again. Small circles, but a little firmer against her. 

“What would you have him do to you if you didn’t have an audience here in the Great Hall?” He pulled at the fabric of her shirt, removing it from where it was tucked into her skirt. When his hand found the skin of her back, she wrote something on the parchment. 

“I’d probably sit in his lap,” she breathed. She made the fingers on her clit change directions, moving up and down now. He traced similar patterns on her low back, feeling the skin break into shivers.

“Forward or backwards, love?”

He heard a tapping, and the quill was pointing to the words she had just written. _Straddle in chair._

She pressed his fingers harder against her clit. 

“Then what would you do to him?” He let his eyes wander to the other positions she had listed above it.

 _Doggy Style, Bridge,_ and _Lotus_ jumped out at him, even though he didn’t know what half of them meant. But they sounded nice.

“I’d – I’d –“ She gasped, and pressed harder down, and moved his fingers faster. “I’d sink down onto you. And I’d ride you.”

Draco could feel a sweat breaking out on his neck. He reached his free right hand around her low back and rested it on her other hip, rubbing soothing circles there. 

“What would you want me to do?” He realized he had scooted closer to her on the bench, and everything was probably too intimate from an outside view.

She pulled her lip into her mouth. “I’d want you to kiss my neck.”

He leaned in to do so, and stopped himself just before. A small moan tore from her throat. Not loud enough to be distracting, but she was clearly no longer worried about onlookers. Draco scooted back slightly, and disobeyed her hand’s requests against her clit. He moved his fingers down to her opening, slipping through and pressing one finger inside. She grabbed his wrist. 

“What else, sweetheart?”

“I’d want you to kiss my breasts,” she whispered.

Draco jolted when he realized they had moved from this fantasy man of hers, to talking about him directly. He pushed another finger inside of her. She closed her eyes. He pumped his fingers in and out, and with the hand rubbing on her back and hip, he dipped below the waistline of her skirt and massaged lower, until he was pressing against her rounded cheeks.

She started moving her hips to meet his fingers. 

“Open your eyes, love. Concentrate on the page.”

He watched her blink her eyes open, glazed and far away. She looked around, remembering where they were. Her right hand started doodling on the page, while her left squeezed his wrist.

“What else should I do, sweetheart?”

She sighed. “Faster.”

“Are you sure, love?” And she bit her lip, looking around at the other students engrossed in their textbooks. “Because I can go faster. I can pick you up and set you down on the table, and fuck you right here where the Gryffindor’s take their breakfast.” She gasped. “I can pound into you, sucking your tits and you can grab my hair.” He curled his fingers inside of her and she keened forward silently. “And you can scream for the whole castle to hear.”

He was just about to pull away, tell her to meet him at the Room of Requirement later. He tried not to let his ego get in the way. He knew she wouldn’t come here, like this. But if this was just the warm-up for later… He kept his fingers pumping, slowly, curling.

The hand squeezing his wrist disappeared. Suddenly she placed it over the bulge in the front of his trousers. His hand froze inside of her. She rubbed her palm over him, keeping her eyes on the parchment. Her hand was warm.

Against his best judgment, Draco’s fingers continued to move inside of her. She licked her lips, and her left hand started to find the buttons on his trousers. He swallowed. 

This… This wasn’t going to end well. But then her hand was dipping into his opened trousers and palming his flesh. He closed his eyes as her fingers wrapped around him, and his own fingers continued to pump into her. He heard scratching and he looked up to see her writing something – and _how could she write at a time like this!_ – and maybe that meant he wasn’t doing his job in her knickers. 

He curled inside of her again, and twisted his hand so his thumb could reach her clit. He brushed against it, and she made a beautiful sound, low enough for only him. 

She pulled his cock out of his trousers, and wrapped her hand around him. 

“Not so talkative now?” she whispered.

He looked up from where he had been transfixed by her movements on him to see her smirking at him, flushed. 

He wanted to kiss her.

Draco scooted backwards, removing his fingers from her softly, and using his other hand to take hers off of him. He stared at the wood grain of the bench between their bodies, breathing slowly. He closed his eyes, and as difficult as it was, he tucked himself into his trousers, and buttoned them up again. Without looking at her face, he grabbed his parchment, rolled it up, and stood from the table.

“I think—“ He cleared his throat. “I think I have enough information here to move forward.” He moved his robes in a way to cover himself. “I’ll let you know where to meet me tomorrow night.”

He glanced up at her face just before he turned. She was flushed, the hair on her neck stuck down by sweat, and she was grinning up at him.

He almost ran from the Great Hall.

He stopped at another broom closet. He finished himself far too quickly. He walked the rest of the way to the Slytherin dungeons to grab his books for his afternoon class and take a cold shower. 

On his way through the Slytherin common room, a voice called out to him.

“Did you have a good breakfast, Draco?”

He stopped, and turned to see Blaise grinning down at the book he was reading.

Draco smirked at him and said, “Delicious.”

Blaise chuckled at the book, and Draco skipped off to class.

He didn’t let himself reread the parchment again until that night. 

The positions she’d added to their list while he played with her:

_Hippogriff_  
_Reverse Hippogriff_  
_Doggy Style_  
_Bridge_  
_Lotus  
_The Hot Seat  
_Deck Chair  
_Straddle in chair_ ___

____

A column of what her fantasy man would look like:

_man_  
_tall_  
_broad_  
_hard muscles  
_light eyes  
_dark curly hair_ __

____

Then in a different column:

__

_public sex_  
_shower sex  
_sweetheart  
_love_ __

_____ _

And down at the bottom of the page, the words she’d scribbled while her hand was wrapped around his cock and his fingers were still inside of her:

_____ _

_I want to watch you come._

_____ _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has become common knowledge that Hermione Granger cannot have an orgasm. Many have tried, none have succeeded. Can Draco Malfoy offer his assistance? // 8th Year AU - WIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO updates in one week!? What can I say. Your responses to this story give me life.

By Tuesday evening, Draco had prepared himself for the very real possibility of having mind-blowingly brilliant sex with Hermione Granger.

Now, if only his cock could get ready, he’d be good to go.

Draco had wanked three times that day: in the morning before classes, during Double-Potions with the Gryffindors (he’d excused himself to the bathroom when the humidity of the room rose, and Granger had pulled her hair up off her neck), and just before dinner in what was quickly becoming one of his favorite broom closets.

And still, seeing her sit down at the dinner table, smiling to the Weasley girl, had his cock begging for attention.

He decided not to rub one out a fourth time. He’d be with her within the hour, and he didn’t want to ruin his odds of getting hard for her.

She dipped her finger in her pudding and sucked it into her mouth, nodding her head along to what the ginger was saying.

Yeah, he needed to go wank.

“Where you going, mate?” 

Draco turned and it was Montana, or whatever his name was.

“Have plans after dinner. Gotta run.” He grabbed his bag with all his research books.

“Meeting up with the Ravenclaw again?”

Draco met Blaise’s eyes across the table. Blaise slid his fork between his lips and chewed.

“Maybe,” Draco said, shrugging. “If she’s lucky.”

Montenegro laughed. The boy was on Draco’s last nerves.

Draco headed for the Entry Hall. He hitched his bag higher on his shoulder and ran his hand through his hair, heading for the same broom closet from before dinner. Merlin, that was thirty minutes ago…

“Malfoy.” 

He turned and Granger was there. She’d followed him out. He took a deep breath. Blaise would be insufferable tonight in the common room.

“Are we still… still meeting tonight?” she asked. Her face and voice were calm but she still stuttered over her words.

“Yes, of course.” He stared at her.

“Oh,” she said. He thought he maybe saw her face lighten. “You said you’d contact me for a location… so I wasn’t sure…” She trailed off. Her eyes were wide.

“Oh, sorry.” He ran his hand through his hair absently. “Yes, Room of Requirement.”

She nodded. “Are you headed there now?”

No, actually, I’m headed to a broom closet to imagine coming all over your tits so that I can last for more than five minutes inside of you.

“Er, yes.”

She nodded and moved to join him. Excellent. 

They walked in silence for a full corridor. 

Draco tried to regain control of the situation. Just because she’d sought _him_ out while he was hard for her tits didn’t mean he didn’t have a plan.

“Have you thought any more about things to add to the list?” He reached for the parchment from yesterday’s breakfast table notes. “You only have public sex and shower sex here. Is there anything else you like? Or want to try?”

She had the decency to look up and down the hallway before taking the parchment from him. He watched her eyes flicker down to the words _I want to watch you come_ before smiling. 

“I don’t really know. I guess I sometimes like unexpected things. Surprise sex, I guess they call it. Um…,” she drifted off that sentence and looked over the list. “Morning sex would be nice. To wake up being stimulated.”

He fumbled for a quill in his bag and handed it to her. She took it and slowed her pace to add _surprise sex_ and _morning sex._

“What about locations. Like the shower, you said.” Draco watched her write. “We’ve done the library, but we could do it again.” She nodded at the parchment, cheeks turning pink. “Other places around the castle?”

“I… um. Like classrooms and hallways?”

He turned them towards the staircases.

“Well, see if it was _my_ list, I’d have ‘Quidditch Pitch at dusk’ on there, or ‘Slytherin common room,” he said. “I know you could care less about Quidditch, so is there a place for you – similar to the library – that you’ve thought ‘Yeah, I’d love to get shagged proper here.’”

She let out a small breath that turned into a small laugh. She slowed her climb on the steps and turned to the stone wall for support as she wrote a few things on the parchment. He smiled watching her bite her bottom lip between her teeth.

He came down a few steps and looked over her shoulder before she pulled the parchment away. He was able to make out _Prefects’ Bathroom_ and _Trelawney’s Classroom._

“Trelawney’s classroom??” He reached for the parchment and she pulled it away, moving to write something else out of his sightline. “Why?”

She finished her words, and turned to him. “Because really, she should have seen it coming.”

He blinked at her, letting her joke settle against his skin. She began climbing the steps again, and he couldn’t help the wide smile spreading across his face.

“You cheeky little bird.”

She grinned next to him as they reached the end of the stairs. “So, what debauchery does Draco Malfoy have planned for tonight?” She was breathless from the seven flights of stairs, he knew, but the sound still did wonderful things to his stomach.

He took a steadying breath, remembering that she was the one that needed to get turned on.

“I was thinking of spending about an hour on foreplay, and then trying one or two of your positions.” He tossed this over his shoulder, like it was the weather.

They arrived at the tapestry, and Draco walked in front of the opposite wall three times, thinking of needing comfortable couches and a bed. The door appeared and he held it open for her. He noticed her hands were twisting around themselves as she passed by him. She looked around the room, and he took the parchment from her hands to put back in his bag. He quickly glanced at her new list of locations, and underneath _Prefects’ Bathroom_ and _Trelawney’s Classroom,_ she had written _Slytherin common room._

He really needed that wank.

He stuffed the parchment into his bag, and turned to find her standing in between the two couches. Good. He reminded himself that tonight was about finding out more of what she liked, and to do that, he’d need to take charge until she took it back.

“Shall I undress you? Or would you like to do it yourself?” He lifted a brow at her, keeping his voice low.

She turned to face him, eyes wide and mouth open. He _knew_ she was about to chicken out and undress herself, so he said, “What would turn you on more?”

She blinked at him, closed her mouth, and swallowed. “Er, yes, you can do it.”

He moved toward her, and when he reached her, he unclasped her robes, opening them and laying them down on the arm of one of the couches. She watched him the whole time, tongue peeking out to wet her lips.

This wasn’t going to go well. 

Draco made a spontaneous choice, and walked around her, facing her back. She wanted to turn to follow him, but he held her hips still, keeping her forward. He reached for the mane of hair on one side of her neck, and pulled it back, exposing her neck to him. He leaned forward and kissed her skin, sliding his hands from her hips, forward to her stomach. He pulled her shirt out from where it was tucked in.

She let out a little sigh. Draco grazed his teeth across her neck, and nibbled her lightly. He started unbuttoning her shirt from the bottom. Her hands tugged at her tie, loosening it and then finally pulling it over her head to toss near her robes. He reattached to her neck, kissing her just below her ear. His hands were halfway up her stomach, and he reached through her open shirt to rub her belly.

She moaned. He bit her neck. She gasped.

Draco let one hand rub circles around her bellybutton, and the other continued undoing her buttons. Her arms hung useless at her sides, but every so often she would reach behind them, and grab his hips, pulling him against her backside. 

He finished opening her shirt with both hands, and peeled it away from her shoulders. She shrugged out of it, and he looked down her body, finding her bra to be white again, but there was lace at the top. And if his limited knowledge of bras was correct, it looked to be some kind of a push-up bra.

He ran his hands lightly up her stomach, playing with her ribs, and then finally lifting her breasts into his hands.

“Yes,” she whispered. He sucked at her shoulder, keeping his eyes on her tits. Her lace covered tits.

He ran his hands in circles around them, letting a few fingers journey just shy of her peaks as they pointed through her bra. She moaned and arched forward, pressing into his hands, and pressing her ass against his crotch. She held onto his hips behind her, pushing against him through her skirt. 

She moved her hands, suddenly grabbing the back of his head, pushing into a glorious position, that had Draco’s cock jumping in his trousers. He groaned against her neck and she sighed. He kissed up her jaw, and she moved back against his hips again. He pushed forward, grinding against her, and they fell off balance, stepping forward to catch themselves.

She laughed. He pinched her nipples at last. She moaned. 

He trailed his hands down to the waist of her skirt, searching for the button and zipper. He popped it open and slid it down her hips, and immediately dipped his hand into her knickers. He slid through her as she gasped, swirled the nub that had just started to come out to play, and then dipped lower to push one finger into her. 

She let out a delicious hum, her fingers still threaded through his hair, her ass still rubbing against him. There was something off though. With his hand in her knickers. He couldn’t place it until he looked down her body again. 

Her knickers. They weren’t cotton. White lace.

She knew they were going to… And she’d…

Draco dropped his head on her shoulder, slipping his hand from her. He held her hips against him and breathed down her back. He needed to remember the plan for the evening.

“Malfoy?”

He swallowed and lifted his head to whisper in her ear, “Do you keep your knickers on when you touch yourself, love?”

The muscles beneath his hands tightened. 

“Sometimes.”

“And your bra? Do you keep it on?”

“Sometimes.” Her voice was shakier. 

“Will you show me?” He felt her swallow. “I want to know what you like.”

He traced patterns up and down her stomach while her mind buzzed. He kissed her jaw. And when she still hesitated, he pulled back from her, his chest and hips missing her warmth already, and turned her around.

She was biting her lip, looking anywhere but him. The push-up bra was almost obscene, the way it brought her tits together, high on her chest. The see-through lace dipped just to the top of her nipples. The lace knickers matched perfectly, thin and barely there. He pushed her gently to sit on the couch behind her. 

She bounced on it and her tits did beautiful things without her even knowing. He knelt in front of her and rubbed up and down her thighs, knees to hips. 

“I want to watch you touch yourself, Granger.” 

Her eyes snapped to his, and he watched them boil. “You already know how to touch me, Malfoy,” she gritted out.

He smiled up at her, and her eyelids fluttered. “Then teach me something new. Now, open wide.” He pushed at her knees, opening them. She pressed her lips together. He quirked a brow. “Or do you like legs closed?”

She scowled at him. “I _like_ in the dark with no one watching.”

“Well, that’s not on the menu tonight, unfortunately,” he smirked at her. He rubbed at her knees, holding them open, and his eyes drifted down to her lace covered center. He looked up at her. “Lay back.” She pouted for a moment, and then leaned against the back of the couch, shifting until she was comfortable. “Where do you begin when you’re alone?”

She looked at his face, her eyes dropped to his mouth for a moment, and Draco resisted the urge to lick his lips for her. She closed her eyes. 

She lifted one hand from where it was clenched against her thigh, and touched her neck. She rubbed slowly down her collar bone to her chest, taking a deep breath in and then moving to the other side. Her other hand joined her, and Draco started moving circles on her knees. She opened her legs wider, and Draco watched the lace pull across her skin, almost revealing her pretty lips to him. He looked back up, and she was running her hands across her chest, moving slowly down to round her breasts, her eyes still closed.

She moved circles around her breasts, like he just had, and he was pleased to know that he’d done something she already liked. 

She slipped her hands down her stomach, and he watched as her fingers slid over the fabric, pressing into the wetness, and pulling the lace closer to her clit. She rubbed circles against herself. She pulled upward strokes with one finger, slowly, then she moved in quick circles. 

His eyes watched her closely. The room was already starting to smell like sex. 

Her fingers started to dip into to the top of her lace knickers, and she paused.

“Are you really going to sit there while I do this? That close?”

He looked up and her eyes were still closed, pinched shut. He responded by kissing the inside of her thigh.

“Don’t you want to teach me, Professor Granger?” he tried, and she pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

He leaned forward and pressed an open kiss to her clit. She jerked and grabbed his hair. He sucked at the lace, tongue flicking out to press harder against the spot she played with a second ago. 

“Ah!” She pressed her hips against his face, closing her legs on him, and he pulled away, gently opening her legs again. 

“Show me how you like it.” 

She growled. “You know how I like it.” She was glaring down at him again. “I can’t do this if you’re going to sit there.”

“Where do you want me to sit?” He smiled.

“Brazil.”

He laughed at her. He stood from the floor, looking down at her, spread open, dripping and covered in lace. 

“I’ll sit on the other couch and watch,” he said, “if you tell me what you’re doing.”

She blinked at him, like that was worse.

He moved to the couch, about four paces away, and sat facing her, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

She sighed. And closed her eyes. She started on her neck again, moving her hands slowly down her stomach. 

“What are you doing?” he said.

She frowned. “Touching my stomach.”

She ran her fingers through her folds again, over the lace. She swirled over her clit.

“What are you doing now—“

“I’m touch my clit!” she yelled at him.

He laughed. And changed his tactic. “What are you thinking about?”

“How much I wish someone was eating me out instead of watching me masturbate,” she hissed. He smiled as she started moving the one finger up and down again. 

“Yeah? Who is he?” He watched as she pressed harder. Her chest moved slowly as she took a deep breath, and her hips started rolling to meet her fingers.

“He’s got dark, curly hair. You don’t know him.” She smiled, eyes still closed.

She dipped her hand into her knickers, and he watched through the lace as she spread herself open with two fingers while a third moved against her clit.

“How does he make you feel?”

She sighed. “Good.” Her mouth had dropped open, and her breathing was coming faster. Draco watched her hips roll and he had no idea why this girl couldn’t come. She was already half of the way there and it had been less than five minutes. 

“Do you want it harder?” he asked.

Her face squeezed. “Uh-huh,” she moaned out. He watched as the finger against her clit started pressing more.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes,” she hissed. “Please…”

“What about faster?”

Her fingers moved faster. Her other hand came up to grab her tits.

“God, yes.”

“Do you like that, sweetheart?”

“Just like that. Yes.”

He watched her face start to open. Her jaw dropped, sucking in breaths, and her eyes pressed closed. 

“What are you doing to your clit, love?”

“I’m – I’m moving up and down.”

“Is that all?”

He watched her hips jump, and she suddenly moved her finger differently. 

“What are you doing now?”

“Fig-figure-eights.”

“How does that feel?”

Her neck stretched. “So good. I want it to be you.”

Draco swallowed. He was hard already, and this had him palming himself through his trousers. 

“What do you want me to do?”

“Touch me. Touch me like this.” 

“Figure-eights?” he asked. “You like that?”

“Yes.” She gasped. “Malfoy, yes.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, she was moving quickly, pushing her hips against her hand. 

“Harder,” he commanded. 

“Yes,” she hissed. “Yeah, like that. Yeah.”

He watched her thighs squeeze, and her head throw back. Was this it? Was she going to—?

“Do you wanna come, baby?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh!”

He stood up and moved to look down at her. 

“Can you go faster?”

“Yes! Yes, I can.” She did. She pulled her lip between her teeth and groaned.

“It’s me touching you, love,” he said. She gasped. “I’m pushing against your clit, and you’re riding my hand, and you’re beautiful.”

Her hips jerked against the couch, and he heard the furniture scrape along the floor. 

“Don’t stop, Granger.”

She cried, her face squeezed.

“Don’t you dare stop. I want you to push harder. It’s my tongue against you now.”

“Oh, god! Oh, god!” She moved her foot up to the edge of the couch, opening herself wider. 

“You like that? You like my tongue?” 

“Yeah. Oh, yeah.”

She was making little moaning noises from the back of her throat, and Draco realized he was stroking himself through his trousers. 

He watched as she changed directions inside her knickers. Her hips slowed down, and then she picked up the pace again. She hummed. 

Her hips started moving quickly, pumping for something. Her face squeezed closed. 

And she slowed. She opened her eyes, frowned, and sighed. 

He stared down at her. “What happened?”

“The first wave didn’t take, that’s what happened.” She pulled her hand from her knickers.

“What! That’s it? You were so close!”

“I’m always close,” she grumbled. She started to sit up.

“No, no,” he said. “Lay back down. Take your time, Granger.” He kneeled in front of her again, adjusting himself. “That whole thing came on quickly. Now, give yourself some room to grow!” He smiled brightly at her.

She frowned at him.

“Malfoy, go to your couch!”

He scowled. He stood to walk back.

“And take off your shirt.”

He spun to look at her. “My shirt?” But as he lifted his brow, she was reaching around to unclasp her bra. Her breasts bounced free as she tossed the bra across the room.

“Yes, unless it ruins your ‘masterplan’ for the evening.” She smirked at him. She stood and quickly shucked her knickers, and suddenly she was naked. She’d not been completely naked in front of him yet. 

“Your shirt?” she prompted, and she sat back down on her couch.

He tore his eyes from her body. “You want it off?” He asked.

“Sure. You’re ‘tall and broad,’ right?” She grinned at him like she had her _own_ masterplan.

Draco pulled off his tie, and started unbuttoning his shirt. He felt her eyes on him as he revealed his skin to her. And found himself looking away.

He was at the last two buttons on his stomach when he heard her say, “Slower, Malfoy. Give the people what they want.”

He scowled up at her and she was grinning wide, leaning back against the couch again, but with her legs crossed and her hands sweeping her hair up off her neck into a messy knot. Her arms above her head stretched her body into a glorious position, tilting her tits up at him, and pulling her ribs away from her hips. She looked perfectly relaxed. 

Draco felt like there were small thestrals trying to escape his stomach. He pulled the shirt off his shoulders, and stalled by folding it nicely, and draping it over the back of his couch. He turned back to her, and threaded his fingers through his hair nervously. She was staring at his body, touching her neck.

“I want you to touch yourself again,” he said.

She lifted a brow at him and met his eyes. “I want you to stay on your couch.”

Draco knew at that moment that he would _definitely_ be bringing up dominant/submissive games to add to their list. 

He sat, and watched as she uncrossed her legs, and shifted her body so she was laying on her back across her couch. He wished she’d left her hair down, so he could see it tumble down the cushions. She let her legs fall open, and turned her head to look at him.

“What do you want me to do?” she said lightly. Innocently.

Oh, fuck you, Granger.

He took a deep breath. 

“Start on your neck.”

She brought her hands up to her neck and shoulders, touching softly and moving circles around her collarbones. 

“Like this?” 

He swallowed. She was toying with him. 

“Yes. Now rub your hands down your chest, in between your breasts.”

She followed his instructions, and he watched her move her hands in continuous waterfalls down her sternum, stopping before her bellybutton and moving back up to her throat.

“I want you to run circles around your tits, Granger. Don’t touch your nipples.”

She obediently ran light circles around her breasts, and Draco watched as the sensitive skin pulled taught, peaking toward the ceiling. Her chest arched for a moment, like she was trying to get comfortable, and Draco looked up to find her eyes on him.

He felt a sweat break out on his neck.

“What next?” she asked, breathy.

“Oh, no, sweetheart. You’re going to stay there until you’re good and ready.” He smirked at her, and shifted his hips just a bit. 

She caught it. 

“Take your trousers off,” she said.

He blinked at her as she moved her hands over her tits, following his instructions.

“Please,” she said.

His hands twitched where they rested on his knees. “Why don’t I let you touch your nipples instead.”

“No, please.” She shifted her hips on the couch. “I want to see you.” Her hands moved faster on her breasts, smaller circles. “I want to look at you.”

_I want to watch you come._

No, that was a bad idea. His trousers and trunks needed to stay firmly _on_ until they moved to the bed. They idea of moving to the bed sent the blood running south, and he looked over at her and found her eyes sliding from his face, down his torso, to the tent in his trousers, and back up. 

“The trousers are staying on, I’m afraid,” he said. She turned her face to the ceiling and dropped her hands from her breasts. “What are you doing?”

“I’m uninspired,” she sighed, a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips.

He pressed his lips together. “You’re a right bitch, you know that, Granger?” It lacked his usual disdain. 

“Keep talking dirty to me, Malfoy,” she sassed back to him, turning her head to grin.

He frowned and stood, hands going to his belt. Granger sat up, curling one leg underneath her.

“Stay on your couch, Granger,” he hissed, as he toed off his shoes. She smiled and kept her eyes on his belt buckle. He’d never felt more put out by taking off his trousers.

His fingers moved quickly, aggressively popping his buttons, and then dropping his trousers and kicking them off, leaving him in his trunks.

“I want them off,” she said.

“I want them on.”

She glared at him, and dragged her eyes across his body, and then drew herself into a kneeling position on the couch, facing him. She sat back on her heels, hips against the back of the couch.

He stood before her, hands on his hips, barely covered, and erection twitching at the sight of her.

“Start again, Granger. Hands on your neck –“

“That’s okay, Malfoy. I can take it from here.” And her hands slid down between her open thighs.

He watched as her fingers gathered the moisture from her core, and dragged it up to her clit, starting her bloody figure-eights again. 

She moaned softly, and he tore his gaze away from her hands, and looked at her face to find her staring at his crotch. She looked up at him, and smirked. He glared back at her.

“I’m going to tie you up, blindfold and gag you one day,” he hissed. Not seductive at all. Just factual.

“Funny,” she said, slipping one finger inside of herself. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

He concentrated on breathing in. And breathing out. He stood in front of her still, hands on his hips. Almost afraid to move. He watched her add another finger inside of herself.

“Do you like watching me touch myself?” she breathed.

He flashed back to just yesterday when she responded, “I don’t know” when he asked if she liked dirty talk. Apparently she did.

“Yes.” He kept his reply simple. She grinned, and then pulled her lip between her teeth.

“Does it turn you on?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She nodded, eyes gleaming at him as she started rubbing faster on her clit.

“That’s why I want you to take your trunks off and wank,” she sighed. “I think it’ll turn me on.”

He swallowed and stared at her, wet fingers disappearing into her sweet cunt.

“It looks like you’re already turned on,” he rationalized.

She raised a brow, and then pulled her fingers out, moved her hands away from her clit and to her open knees. She looked away and gave a theatrical sigh. “I thought we were trying new things. Seeing what works and what doesn’t.” She bit the inside of her cheek and looked wistfully to the side. Such melodrama.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Granger.”

He rolled his eyes, dropped his trunks, and sat back down on his couch, his cock standing up tall. He glared at her, leaned back, and wrapped his hand around himself. 

Her lips parted, and so did her thighs. She slid her hands up her legs, back to her core, and he closed his eyes. He concentrated on light, slow strokes. 

He heard her groan. He started counting the number of windows in the East Wing of the Manor by memory.

He got to seventeen before he heard – “Oh, god.”

He started on his Transfiguration essay that was due tomorrow. He got through with his opening paragraph before she said, “Please. Faster.”

Draco squeezed his eyes and bit his tongue. He concentrated everything he had on keeping his slow pace. He _would_ get to that bed with her. He _would._

“Malfoy, please. Will you look at me?”

“No, Granger,” he rasped.

“But I want you to.”

“I know, you toxic little…” he mumbled several insults, and she laughed and the sound quickly turned into a moan.

He heard her shift on the couch. “Please go faster, Malfoy. Please,” she begged. 

“Stop talking, Granger. Just touch yourself.” If he could just get her close to another of her “waves” again –

“Mm. Yes,” she wheezed. “Do you want to know what I’m doing now?”

“No.”

“Do you want to know how many fingers I have inside of me?”

His hand squeezed around his cock and he sucked in a deep breath. He knew she noticed.

“Granger, if you keep talking, I’m going to come, and if I come, we won’t get to try any of your positions from the list –“

“I don’t care, Malfoy, I just want you to go faster.” Her voice was low and breathy.

Draco rubbed his free hand down his face, resisting the urge to snap his hips forward. 

He heard her shifting on the couch again, and he started counting the number of books he had to purchase for this school year.

Something touched his knees and he snapped his eyes open to find Hermione Granger kneeling in front of him, naked and licking her lips.

“What are you doing?! GO BACK TO YOUR COUCH!” He sat forward, pushing her hands off his knees and ignoring his cock bouncing at the sight.

“Shh,” she said. “I want to.” She rubbed her hands up his thighs and smiled when he allowed her to.

Draco was suffocating. He looked briefly to the bed. The bed where he wanted to pound into her from behind, or wrap her legs around his waist and roll his hips into her. He returned his eyes to Granger, hair falling out of her bun, and fingers wrapping around his cock.

He licked his lips, and said, “You don’t have to do this, Granger. I’ll – I’ll” – he took a steadying breath – “I’ll go down on you. Lay down on the bed, and we’ll—“

“You wanted me to stop talking, right?” she grinned. She slipped him into her mouth.

Draco could feel the thirteen-year-old version of himself screaming. The one that had learned what a blowjob was and had immediately thought of how nice it would be to shut up Hermione Granger like that.

He could feel her tongue sliding along him. She pulled her mouth away and kissed the tip. She kissed the side. She ran her tongue along the sides of him. And his cock disappeared into her mouth again.

“Fuck.”

She laughed, and the sound shivered through him. His hands twitched, begging to grab her. 

She sucked. He groaned out a noise. She took more of him into her mouth and sucked again. One hand stroked the base of him.

“Alright,” he breathed. “You don’t have to do anymore—“

Her other hand reached for his balls, and he threw his head back against the couch. Apparently, this was her sign to move faster on him. 

He dragged his hands down his face, keeping his eyes squeezed closed. 

She was… She was quite good. He’d had blowjobs before. From different girls. Some were good, some were okay. Hermione Granger was quite good.

And he knew if he watched her, he’d see that she was actually great. So, he kept his eyes firmly shut.

She let go of him with a _smack._ “Malfoy.”

“Oh, fuck off, Granger,” he heaved.

She licked him up and down again. “Malfoy.”

“Don’t do this to me. Merlin…”

“Malfoy, I want you to watch me.”

“I know you do, you saucy little cunt.”

She laughed. And took him in her mouth again, sucking him down and starting to bob her head on him. He felt her tongue on the under side of him, and her cheeks sucking him in.

It was time to stop her. Stop her and move to the bed. He could go down on her for a while to calm down, and then he’d bring her knees to her shoulders and finish inside of her.

“Granger,” he said. 

She hummed around his cock and he pumped his hips up, driving his cock into her throat. 

His eyes snapped open. “I’m so sorry,” he gasped. She pulled off of him. He reached for her shoulders to apologize. 

She took a deep breath and reattached to him, eyes on his face. Draco’s mouth dropped open and no sound came out. She bounced up and down on him, lips thin around him, and he noticed that her tits were bouncing with every movement. She sucked him harder.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.” He grabbed her head. She moved her hand on his balls again, and he felt the pressure building in them.

She continued. And he watched her. And his hand curled into her hair, barely letting her move back to keep bouncing on him.

“Okay, okay,” he whispered. “Let’s…Let’s—“

She pulled back, and kept her hand moving quickly on him, stroking him tightly, and twisting just right.

“Where do you want to come?”

Her words were foreign to him.

Then it clicked.

“We have to stop, Granger.”

Her hand moved faster. “My mouth? 

He couldn’t get his hips to stop pumping with her.

“My chest?”

His mind was moving rapidly through every place on her body he wanted to shoot himself onto. Her tits and her ass were his current favorites.

“Where do you want to come, Malfoy?” She slowed down, a mischievous look in her eyes.

He heaved in air. “I _want_ to come inside of you, you stupid bint. So, we need to stop now.”

He watched as she bit her lip, let go of his cock, and stood. 

Thank Merlin.

Then she placed her knees on either side of him, grabbing his shoulders.

“What are you doing??” He panted. 

“Inside of me?” She smiled, breathing hard on his face.

“Granger, please.” He couldn’t tear his eyes off of her tits, now right in front of his face. “Not like this.”

“This is what I want. Please?”

She grabbed him, lined him up with her entrance, and suddenly the most beautiful heat pressed down on him, surrounding him, consuming him. 

He was heaving for air, choking sounds leaving his throat. 

She sighed, and her eyes fluttered closed. 

His hands were on her hips somehow, and she rolled forward, fully taking him in.

“I’m not going to last,” he said, his forehead pressing against her shoulder.

“I don’t want you to.”

And she started moving. His hands squeezed her hips, and his eyes pressed closed. 

She shifted her hips, opening her thighs wider, and pressing closer to him. He could feel her chest against his. 

Her lips against his neck, kissing and licking and sucking like she had just done on his cock. His cock that was inside of her.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, and his hips jumped to her. 

She gasped. She bit down on his neck. He pumped into her again.

“Please, Draco,” she whispered into his ear. “I want you to.”

He slammed her hips down against his, pressing up to meet her. He moved quickly against her, pressing bruises against her hipbones. She pulled her face back to watch him. And he finally looked down at where her heat was taking him in as he pounded up into her.

He burst apart with a moan, pumping little thrusts against her, moving her body against him. Her nails tore into his shoulder. 

He closed his eyes. And caught his breath. 

And he felt disgusting. 

He wondered how many times she’d watched someone finish before her. How many times she got to watch someone come down, and smile at her for getting them off.

He pressed his lips together, and hated that she’d allowed him to –

A kiss against the corner of his mouth, soft. 

“Thank you,” she said.

His eyes opened and he looked up at her. She smiled at him. And kissed the other corner of his mouth, pressing forward, connecting their chests again so he could feel her soft curves melting against him. He was suddenly aware that he was still inside of her, softening, when her walls squeezed him.

“I loved that.”

He blinked at her.

“Did you…” She couldn’t have, right?

She shook her head, no. And still smiled at him.

“I just liked watching you. Being with you.”

And she pressed her lips against his.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has become common knowledge that Hermione Granger cannot have an orgasm. Many have tried, none have succeeded. Can Draco Malfoy offer his assistance? // 8th Year AU - WIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO excited that you all are enjoying this fic. It's shaping up to be about 10-12 chapters, for those who are asking.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING - I'm not going to pretend I fully comprehend all the different ways people can be triggered by reading things, but I do want to respect those people. There is NO NON-CON in this story, but this chapter may contain something that I think is fun and playful, but others may be triggered by. Please scroll down to the very bottom to see the Author's notes at the end if you want to know what I'm referring to before reading.

A pity fuck, that’s what she’d given him.

_Thank you,_ she’d said.

Thank you for going down on me all those times. Thank you for fingering me at the breakfast table. Thank you for _trying._

A pity fuck and a pity blowjob.

Draco pushed his eggs around his plate, head in his hand. 

Perhaps it was over between them.

The boy whose name he couldn’t be bothered to remember was talking animatedly with Blaise. He turned to Draco.

“What topic did you choose for your Transfiguration essay, Malfoy?”

He’d chosen self-loathing. 

He didn’t write it. He’d spent the night lying awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Malfoy?”

“Fuck off, Myers!”

The whole Great Hall went quiet. He gathered his books and stomped out, ignoring Blaise’s chuckles and _her_ eyes.

The new Transfiguration professor chastised him after class, both for failing to complete his assignment and for inappropriate language at the breakfast table. This was after a double lesson with the Gryffindors. With Granger’s stare checking in on him several times.

He sulked in the classroom while the professor flew out, headed to lunch. He grabbed his book bag, shoved it onto his shoulder and trudged out of the room. He didn’t have any more classes for the rest of the day, but it was almost lunchtime. He wasn’t even hungry—

“Malfoy.”

He turned. Granger was standing there next to the door, eyes wide. 

“What,” he snapped.

She opened her mouth, and her expression closed down.

“I just wanted to see if you needed any help with the Transfiguration essay,” she said, a bit more snappy than before.

He sneered at her. 

“You’re not my _tutor,_ Granger. I don’t need your help.”

She examined his face. He ran his hand through his hair and tried to push past her. He really couldn’t deal with her right now.

“You’re angry,” she said. 

“I’m not angry,” he shot over his shoulder, intending to _run_ back to the dormitories and get lost in a book for the afternoon. 

“Is this about the kiss?”

His feet stopped, and he turned to see her, arms crossed and biting her lip. He blinked at her and she continued.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you,” she said, and moved her hand through her hair, leaving it disheveled. “I know this is a sex thing, and although we never made any kind of contracts or boundaries, I shouldn’t have… kissed you.”

She looked away, waiting for him to speak. He blinked at her.

“Kiss?”

Of all the things that happened last night, the kiss was the least of his worries.

She stared at him. Her eyes grew wide, and suddenly her jaw clicked closed. “Yes. I kissed you last night. You don’t remember?” She hissed at him, narrowing her heated eyes. “ _Sorry_ if it was so _insignificant_ for you. It won’t happen again.”

She turned on her heel, shaking in anger, and moved to stomp past him into the corridor. He grabbed her elbow just before she slipped away. He dragged her the two steps around the corner, back into the empty classroom, and pushed her against the stone wall.

“You call that a kiss?” He lifted a brow at her.

And then he kissed her. Moving his mouth, grabbing her waist, encouraging her to kiss him back. 

She squeaked. And her hands grabbed his arms. 

He could do this. If he couldn’t get her off, he could show her how good he was at this. 

He tilted his head and pushed past her lips, pressing her tongue with his and dragging her body against him. Her hands slid up into his hair, and he moaned into her mouth as her fingers ran patterns into his scalp.

Of course she was a fucking excellent snog.

He kissed her until he forgot why he was so frustrated. Until he forgot her pity fuck and pity blowjob and how incompetent he was at keeping his dick to himself.

She nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth, and his hands moved down her waist and rounded her backside, pulling her closer. She smiled against his lips. He fisted the material of her skirt, and dragged it up until her knickers were exposed, then he filled his palm with her perfect cheeks.

She gasped. 

He slid his mouth across her jaw to her neck. There were bruises forming, hidden by makeup. He smiled and set his mouth to make more.

He listened as she gasped little noises, her throat clicking around sounds she wanted to make. She tugged his hair and dragged his face back to hers, attacking his mouth. She wound her arms around his shoulders, locking them and pressing her chest into his. He kept massaging her backside, rubbing lower and lower until he was close enough to push aside her knickers and dive into her folds. 

She was undulating her body against his, rolling tiny waves from her hips to her shoulders.

They should stop. They should—

She bit his lip again, harder.

Yes, they should stop. It was almost lunchtime. The door was open. There were classmates heading to the Great Hall. 

He slid his hands from her backside, letting her skirt fall back into place. He retrieved his tongue from her mouth, and nipped at her lips, pulling his head back. 

“Oh, _that_ kiss. I remember now,” he said. 

She sent him a look that was supposed to be a glare, but failed with her heavy breathing and glazed eyes.

He kept his hands on her hips and thought it may be too intimate, too personal. And he didn’t care.

She slid her hands down from where they were draped along his shoulders, down to his elbows.

“So, you’re not angry with me? About yesterday?” Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at him.

She was still on this?

“I’m not angry about the kiss,” he said.

“But the other things,” she said. “It seems like you don’t like it when I’m assertive.”

He blinked at her. “What?”

“When I reach into your trousers without permission, or drop to my knees without you asking, or even just being the one to approach you first – following you out of the Great Hall yesterday,” she explained. “It upsets you. You like to be in charge, yes?”

She waited with wide eyes. 

“I… I like to be in _control._ Not of you, of myself.”

“I like seeing you out of control,” she breathed. She smiled and slid her hands up to his shoulders again.

“Yes, I’ve gathered.” Draco brought his eyes to the ceiling, begging Merlin for peace from this witch. He looked down at her face, cheeks flushed still, hair a bit out of place. “It surprises me when you’re… assertive. That’s all.”

“Did you expect me to lie still on my back while you ravished me?” she quipped, raising a brow at him.

“No, no. Of course not,” he said. “I just…” He had to look away from her. “It excites me. When you’re assertive.” He could feel the heat creeping up his cheeks. “And then I can’t concentrate on you. And _that’s_ what frustrates me.”

There was only so long he could stare at the wall over her shoulder before she pulled his chin back to her. 

“It’s a marathon, not a sprint, remember?” she teased.

He huffed. 

He saw her look over his shoulder at the empty classroom, then look back at him, eyes wide.

“Do you need any help with your Transfiguration essay?”

He stared at her. Then laughed. Leave it to Granger to always be thinking about schoolwork. 

“No, I just didn’t write it.”

She licked her lips, then straightened her clothing, and pushed her way around him, being sure to brush his hips with hers. She moved to the center of the classroom.

He turned to face her, about to do something stupid, like ask to escort her to the Great Hall, where they would, of course, separate for lunch.

She flicked her wand and the classroom door shut.

His eyes flipped from the door to her. She stood tall and clasped her hands behind her back.

“Do you think your education is a joke, Mr. Malfoy?”

He blinked at her. She raised her eyebrow and jutted her chin in the air, looking down on him. His throat went dry.

“No?”

She tilted her head at him and walked to the front of the classroom, hips swaying. 

“You used to be such an exemplary student, Mr. Malfoy.” She stopped at the teacher’s desk and turned to face him. “Energetic, driven…” She pressed herself up to sit on the edge and crossed her legs. “Passionate.”

He stayed frozen near the door. That was the professor’s desk. That used to be _McGonagall’s_ desk. 

“Come sit, Mr. Malfoy.” She gestured to the desk in the front row.

He felt his legs moving, and slowly made his way to the front of the classroom, her eyes on him the whole time. He dropped his book bag near the desk, and slid himself onto the chair.

“I apologize… Professor.” He looked up at her through lowered lids, and watched as she licked her lips. “It’s been a hard year.” He slouched in his chair, pushing his hips toward her. “ _Very_ hard.”

She pressed her lips together, and he saw the smile she was fighting.

“If you refuse to complete your assignments, Mr. Malfoy, I will have no choice but to mark you with a ‘Dreadful.’ ‘Poor’ at best.”

“You can’t fail me out of Transfiguration, Professor Granger.” He sat tall, smirking at her. “Surely my performance merits an ‘Acceptable,’” he pleaded, feeling the blood rushing lower as they played. 

“You know I don’t offer extra credit, Mr. Malfoy.” She looked at him with mock-pity, and stood from the desk, moving around it, and pretending to tidy it.

“There must be something I can do,” he said. 

She did smile then, before quickly shaking her head. “You’re dismissed, Mr. Malfoy.” She looked up at him. “You had so much potential.”

He grinned at the desk when she looked away, tutting to herself. She was going to make him work for it, wasn’t she?

He stood from the desk in front, and came around to the side of the professor’s desk. 

“Please let me turn in the essay, Professor. Please give me a chance.” He licked his lips, as she stared up him. “You’re the best teacher Hogwarts has to offer. You’re brilliant. And beautiful –“

“That’s highly inappropriate, Mr. Malfoy.” She returned to cleaning up paperwork.

Merlin’s Balls, Granger! He rolled his eyes, trying to look for a way in.

“But it’s the truth,” he whined. “Half the reason I can’t concentrate in class is because of you.” He heard himself edging closer to the truth than he’d like. “I can’t sleep. I lay awake at night thinking of your tits, thinking of your legs.” He stepped closer to the desk and let his fingers trail across her hand. “Thinking of tasting you. Thinking of fucking you on this desk.”

She pulled her hand from his, blush high on her cheeks. “Mr. Malfoy. While I appreciate your… appreciation,” she said, blinking. “It’s highly inappropriate—“

Fuck, it was like she had no idea how these fantasies work. Next time, he’d be the Professor. Let her be the eager student. Punish her for getting a question wrong.

He watched her berate him, talking about school ethics and student behavior. When she was done, he said, “So there’s nothing I can do to improve my grade?”

“No, Mr. Malfoy, I’m sorry.” She shook her head at him. 

“Damnit, Granger! The fuck is wrong with you!?”

She gasped. “That’s _Professor_ Granger, to you!”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed the back of her head, dragging her lips to his. He sucked on her bottom lip, and she pushed at his chest.

“Mr. Malfoy! What are you doing!?”

“My extra credit assignment.” He smirked at her. 

She had a look of fake outrage on her face. “I don’t _offer_ extra credit!”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard.” 

He cupped her cheeks and pulled her lips to his again, pressing hot open-mouth kisses to her. He reached for her hips, dragging her body around the corner of the teacher’s desk, to stand in front of him.

She pulled her mouth from his. “This is preposterous. I could have you expelled for this!”

He moved his mouth down her jaw to her ear. “Don’t do that, Professor. I can be better. Please teach me.” He bit her ear and let his tongue move over it. 

She squeezed his shoulders and a low moan rumbled from her throat. 

Draco gripped her by the waist, picked her up, and sat her down on the edge of the desk. He pried her knees apart and stepped between them. He started undoing the buttons on her blouse.

“Mr. Malfoy—“

“Please, Professor Granger. Let me show you what a good student I can be.”

“Grades are final, Mr. Malfoy—“

He disregarded his task of getting her shirt off and dropped to his knees. He rubbed his hands on both thighs and looked up at her. 

“Do you want to see what I’ve learned so far?” He smirked. She pulled her lip between her teeth in a very non-Professor Granger way, and Draco shucked up her skirt and pressed his mouth against her knickers. 

“Oh!” Her hands wound into his hair. 

He licked her, sucking at the fabric of her knickers. It wasn’t cotton. 

He grabbed at the elastic and pulled, surprised when she lifted her hips to help him get them off. He licked and sucked and kissed at her for ten minutes. She was riding his face toward the end of it, and she groaned when he pulled away from her and stood.

She was leaning back on one hand. Her bra peeked through her shirt from where he’d abandoned unbuttoning her, and her face was flushed. 

“Professor, do you have any notes?” He asked, smirking at her. 

She sent him an exasperated glare before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him.

He froze, tasting her still in his mouth as her tongue swept over him. She didn’t seem to mind. He stepped closer to her, hands moving to her back, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. 

Draco’s entire body felt like it had been lit on fire. He decided to push further. 

He pulled his mouth away from her, and looked into her eyes as he reached for his belt buckle. Her pupils were blown wide, and she breathed hot air on his face. 

He let his trousers drop, watching to see if she had an opinion on that. She pulled her lip between her teeth and smiled. 

Draco swallowed. He pulled himself out of his trunks and reached around her, clearing the space on the desk behind her. She kissed his neck once.

He placed his hands on her ribs, and guided her to lay back. She kept her eyes on him. 

He grabbed her hips, and lifted them until they were at the edge of the desk. She squeezed her thighs around him.

He looked down on her from where he stood, ready to enter her.

“I want that ‘Outstanding,’ Professor.”

“You’ll have to earn it.”

His eyes seared into hers. He positioned himself against her, and watched her squirm. He pushed inside, and found that sweet, burning heat from the night before. She hummed. 

He groaned and pulled back to enter her again. He felt her heels digging into his low back, where they were wrapped. Starting a slow rhythm between them, he gripped at her hips, holding her shifting body still even as she squeezed her legs around him. 

Mesmerized by watching the way he slipped inside of her, he finally tore his eyes away when her hands moved from the edge of the desk to his wrists, digging her nails into his skin.

“Harder.”

He looked down at her, her hair splayed across the desk and her chest heaving. 

“Yes, Professor,” he said. She grinned. He pulled her hips, slamming her to him and her grin turned into an open mouth, sucking in air. 

He did his best to keep his rhythm slow and even, but jerked her hips to meet his, slapping their skin together. 

When she realized he was awaiting her next instructions, she glared at him. 

“Faster, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Yes, Professor.” 

He reached underneath her, lifting her backside off the desk in both hands, and dragged her hips against his, crushing her pelvis to his at a quicker pace.

She squeaked at every thrust. Her hands slammed down to grab the edges of the desk.

He was transfixed watching her face. She’d tilt her head back, jaw to the ceiling, closing her eyes and breathing deep. She’d open her eyes and watch him. She’d turn her head to the side and mewl out encouraging words like “yes” and “so good.”

He understood how blokes like Theo thought that she came. She was incredibly responsive.

His rhythm stuttered and her hips slipped through his hands as a thought like a jagged knife slid into his mind. 

Was she putting on a show for him? Right now?

As he repositioned her, she ran her fingers through her hair, head lolling to the side, eyes fluttering closed and she whispered, “Mm yes.”

She couldn’t be. He blinked at her as her eyes opened and found his, waiting for him to begin again. Her chest was heaving and her face was pink.

Draco set her hips back down on the desk, and moved his left arm, twisting it underneath her thigh, forcing her knee over his elbow. Her eyes were bright as he sunk into her, moving to lean forward on the desk, hands next to her ribs.

The angle pulled moans out of them both. 

“How’s this, Professor?” he asked.

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Please.”

“’Please,’ what?” 

From this position he hovered over her, watching her bra pull tight over her tits.

She growled and rolled her hips, not wanting to say it. To his credit, he managed not to roll into her. 

“What’s my assignment, Professor?” He grinned. 

She glared up at him and said, “You owe me a Transfiguration essay, Mr. Malfoy. And I’d say you owe me lines about how it’s important to turn in your assignments on time –“

He reached for the leg that wasn’t currently at his shoulder, and tilted it up, pressed to his side.

She sighed. 

“Nothing else I can do, Professor? At this particular moment?”

She huffed and turned her eyes to the ceiling, and with an air of nonchalance: “I suppose you could pound me into my desk for the next half hour or so.”

His face split into a delicious grin and he laughed. “Anything for my grades, Professor.”

He started a heavy pace against her, and her hands grabbed at his biceps, eyes squeezing shut and mouth falling open.

He was determined to make sure she couldn’t fake anything she was feeling.

He shook the desk with every thrust, grateful for her soft skin on his hipbones as his thighs slapped the side of the desk. 

It was a good idea to leave the majority of her clothes on. Even as he watched her tits bounce beneath her shirt, he knew if he had them bared to him he’d lose it sooner.

As if prompted by his thoughts, her hands left their place on his arms to slide up her stomach and knead into her breasts. Draco closed his eyes, and tilted his head down so he could watch where they were joined, skirt flipped up onto her stomach. Out of the corner of his sightline, he saw her fingers finishing the buttons of her shirt, and starting to drag her thumbs across her bra.

A small sigh. He slowed his pace, and shifted the arm that wasn’t hooked under her knee to reach down to where he slipped into her. He found her clit and started a tempo that matched his thrusts. She threw her head back, and moaned, arching her chest to the ceiling. 

“Oh, Draco.”

He moved faster, feeling his skin prick in all the right ways. He’d started watching her face and her chest again, so he closed his eyes, keeping his rhythm for her. 

“Yes,” she gasped.

He felt her move under him, shifting, and then a hand on his neck. He opened his eyes to find her propped up on one elbow, reaching for him with the other arm. She dragged his face to hers and kissed him. It curved his spine, and sent shivers down his arms. 

She breathed heavy air into his mouth, and he pushed harder on her clit. She pushed her tongue against his and moaned. 

She wasn’t faking this. He was sure. 

She was sucking on his lip and shifting her mouth against his, and pumping her pelvis up to meet him. 

He snapped his hips, pushing faster, and she yelped into his mouth. She wrapped both arms around his shoulders and – how was she so bendy? – and brought their chests closer and their mouths hotter and her fingers moved through his hair.

This was –

He was – 

Almost there. 

He rubbed frantically at her clit, no finesse, no skill. She squeaked on every thrust and he swallowed the sounds. 

This was a mistake. He was going to come. She was moaning and pumping and kissing him like she was going to as well, but just not soon. He pulled his face from hers and saw her eyes follow him. Completely in the moment. Not lost yet.

She smiled and leaned in to kiss him again. 

That was the problem. Her fucking delectable mouth and her bouncing tits and her hands in his hair –

He pulled away from her clit, hand going to her hip, and strained to remove his arm from underneath her knee. Her lips left his as he pulled out of her, letting her legs drop. He lifted her off the desk onto unbalanced feet, and turned her around. 

He flipped her skirt up, and kicked her legs open. She fell forward and caught herself, hands on the desk. She laughed. 

He guided himself inside of her from this position, her wet heat taking every inch as they adjusted themselves. She sighed a trembling breath. 

Her shirt was still on from this angle. Her face wasn’t flushed and sweating from this angle. Her lips weren’t in front of him from this angle. 

He started his rhythm back up.

He could look down at her ass from this angle, watch himself disappear inside. 

He loved this angle.

And so did she. 

He gripped her hips and pulled her back to meet him at every thrust, and they must have found a great angle for her G-spot because she gasped every time he filled her. 

This was so much better for him. No grabby hands or plush lips or perfect breasts.

She bent forward, letting her weight rest on her elbows. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, and turned to meet his eyes.

Well, fuck. 

He blinked, swallowing. And his hips slammed into her, over and over. He watched her eyes roll back, her lip pull between her teeth, her mouth moan for him. And she kept her face turned to him, watching him when her eyes weren’t closed.

He reached forward and grabbed her hair, twisting his hand around her curls, guiding her face forward, and held her there. Arching her chest towards the desk, she groaned, “Oh, fuck.”

Something shifted in her hips. She started moving back against him without the help of his hand on her hips. Every thrust, little sounds popped from her throat, like bubbles.

While his hand fisted her hair and her hips pounded back against him, he used his free hand to reach around and find her clit again. 

“Yes!” She gasped. “Yes, thank you!”

It was hard to get a rhythm going as her hips thrust backwards, so he just pressed his fingers against her, letting them slide as she moved.

“Please, oh god.” She moaned and stuttered little staccato gasps. “Faster, Draco.”

He still couldn’t get over what his name sounded like on her lips, giving him the energy to go faster, push harder.

He felt himself building back up again. His fist tightened around her hair. 

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop,” she groaned.

He needed to slow down. Find another angle. Touch her clit for a while.

“Don’t stop.”

He wheezed the air in his lungs, and pumped into her, losing his rhythm but making sure to hit the same spot every time. 

He was going to come.

“Yes, please. Don’t stop.”

A strangled sound left his throat and he released her hair, moving both hands back to her hips. He was losing it. He slapped her back onto him, pounding and gasping, and watching himself piston into her. 

He peaked, and leaned forward, hands on top of hers on the desk, chest against her back, finishing and thrusting and groaning into her hair until every last drop of him was inside. 

When he lifted his head, she was shaking under him. 

“Fuck!” He dropped his head against her shoulder again. 

“That was amazing,” she said.

He groaned into her hair, pressing his face against her curls, wanting to sleep against them.

He was softening inside of her, and she hadn’t come. 

He stood them up on unstable legs, wrapped both arms around her waist, and turned around, still inside of her. He sat back on the desk, seating her in his lap. He held her to his chest, as his right hand reached down for her clit. 

Her hips jerked. 

His legs strained, trying to thrust into her again, the blood leaving his cock. She gasped. He rubbed her clit, figure-eights, small circles. The arm holding her torso against him slid up, hand pressing against her breast. 

She moaned and threw her head back on his shoulder. He attached his lips to her neck and rolled his pelvis against her, trying to give her something to work with. 

She turned her head and kissed him. He let his tongue slide against her as his fingers rubbed and plucked at different parts of her. She wiggled in his lap, sliding his cock inside of her, searching for the length and strength he couldn’t give her. 

She pulled his lip between her teeth as she ground down against his hips, squeezing him. He winced. 

“It hurts,” she said, watching his face. A fact, not a question.

He shook his head and kissed her firmly, rubbing faster on her clit and grabbing roughly at her breast, pressing his hips up into her. He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on her breathing as he tried to pump what he had left into her.

“Draco, don’t—“

He kissed her again, switching to her other breast. 

“It’s okay,” she mumbled against his lips. “Just touch me.”

He pulled out of her, and just kissed her, rubbing circles on her body. It took him a few minutes to realize that his pace was slow and languid, and she’d stopped writhing. 

He pulled back, and she gave him a hazy grin. 

“All of this will be on the final exam,” she said.

~*~

He retreated to the Slytherin dorms to take a shower and a long nap. She nipped by the Great Hall for a quick bite before heading to her afternoon classes. Every time he remembered that she was walking around the halls or sitting in her classes with his come inside of her he shivered, a smile on his lips.

He’d asked about protection, making sure she was on a potion or something. She assured him she was on Muggle and magical medicines.

He finished his Transfiguration essay just before dinner, finding himself much more “inspired.” He brought it to the professor’s office, and headed to the Great Hall.

He saw her at dinner, smiling with her friends. He tried not to take notice of the blokes that talked to her, or made her laugh. 

But he did plan on wiping that smug grin right off of Seamus Finnigan’s stupid face. 

“You’re in a far better mood this evening, Draco.” Blaise scooted closer to him. “Seeing the Ravenclaw soon?”

He saw Granger stand from the table, moving all her books into her bag. 

“No, actually,” he said. “I’ve been fucking Hermione Granger.” He looked to Blaise as Mumbledon snorted his soup through his nose. “And you’re right. She’s a fantastic shag.”

Blaise’s eyes sparkled as Draco stood from the table, and followed her into the hallway.

She turned when she heard the door open again. She raised her brows. “You can’t just… follow me out of the Great Hall. What will people think.” She suppressed a grin.

“I just told Blaise that we’re fucking.” The words tumbled out of his mouth. He didn’t know what he wanted her to say. 

Neither did she. 

“Oh. Okay.” She blinked at him. “Um, I was headed to the library, but…” She let her sentence trail off, begging him to finish for her.

His heart was beating fast, feeling like telling Blaise was a “moment” or something.

“Did you happen to notice that poor Trelawney’s been ill,” he said. She frowned at him. “Heard that she’s been holed up in her dormitory all day. Cancelled classes.”

She stared at him until her brows lifted and her mouth opened. 

He escorted her to the seventh floor of the North Tower, up the trapdoor, and into the Divination Classroom. 

She sat in Trelawney’s chair as he ate her out, and then he fucked her on top of the cushions used for class. The plush pillow that usually supported Trelawney’s back in her chair was the perfect lift for her hips as she laid on her back with him kneeling before her, thrusting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains sexual roleplay for a student-teacher relationship. The power struggle is not overt (in my opinion) and the scene is playful. It is not meant to imply an underage student with an adult teacher.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has become common knowledge that Hermione Granger cannot have an orgasm. Many have tried, none have succeeded. Can Draco Malfoy offer his assistance? // 8th Year AU - WIP

“Ugh, yes. Draco, please!”

He had a love-hate relationship with the way she would say “Draco, please.” 

On one hand, hearing her call for him - beg him - sent electricity shooting through him. It made him proud to know that she was thinking of him. Her brain wasn’t wandering to her fantasy man.

He grabbed her shoulder, using the leverage from his other hand on her hip, and pulled her back on his cock harder than she could grind backwards on him.

“Oh fuck. Yes,” she groaned. His hipbones slapped against her ass.

On the other hand, the “please” implied that there was something only he could give to her. That he could make her come, and she was just politely asking him to go ahead and do it already.

Which had not been the case thus far.

“Oh, god…”

They were in the Room of Requirement on Thursday evening, after dinner. She was on her hands and knees on the king size bed, and he was kneeling behind her, knocking Doggy Style off their list.

“Draco, please…”

There it was again. He almost rolled his eyes.

He released her shoulder, and nudged her elbows to bend. She rested her weight on her forearms, bringing her backside higher. He leaned over her, hands on the bed near her own, and started rutting against her.

She gasped, and tried to move back against him. 

He kissed her shoulder blade, and lifted one of his hands from the mattress so he could palm at her breast.

Merlin, they were full. He loved her tits.

He reached across her chest for the other one, and she let out a breathy laugh.

“Do you like that?” he asked, trying for dominant.

She flipped her head, hair cascading everywhere, and turned to look at him.

“I like that you like it.”

Draco swallowed. He pulled her back, up onto both their knees. His lips at her ear. Her hands scrambled to grab his hips, afraid of falling forward, but he kept her balanced with one hand on her hip, and the other in the center of her chest. 

It was hard to find a rhythm from here, but she tilted her head back to lay on his shoulder, mouth open, eyes closed.

He slid his hand from her hip, up her waist, feeling her muscles tightening to keep her upright. He brought both hands to her breasts and began kneading them.

She hummed and he saw her smile. He kissed her jaw, sucking at the skin there.

His hips kept a shallow rhythm, using his grip on her tits to pull her to him. 

“Please…”

His teeth scratched at her jaw and he plucked at her nipples. She cried out. 

She turned her head and found his mouth. He squeezed her breasts as she fucked his mouth with her tongue. He could barely keep up, trying to focus on his hips, and his balance. She pushed her chest into his hands, tilting her hips to him, and grabbed onto his neck.

Their bodies fit together so perfectly. He wondered if there was something to the phrase “made for each other.” She was soft where he was hard; she met him more than halfway on everything, every thrust, every kiss; she told him exactly what she wanted and he tried to give it to her.

“More,” she said. “Please.”

He untangled her arms from his neck and moved her down to her elbows again. Her perky cheeks tilted up at him.

He’d never felt this with Pansy. And not with any of the other girls. Not that there had been many. Maybe four.

He looked down at her as she was moving her hair out of her face, turning to watch him. The other blokes she’d been with – had they made her feel like that? She’d been with a fair share, hadn’t she? Did they all get this many chances? Could any of them get her this close?

He gripped her hips and slammed into her. He held her eyes as she fought the need to close them, roll them back into her head.

“Oh, yes. More.”

He tried to ignore that piece of pride that always got in his way. That sliver of hope that crept in, wondering if she’d come this time. They’d never done this position…

Draco followed her request, continuing to pull her back against him, harder than she could do it herself.

A high-pitched gasp.

How many other blokes had heard that gasp? None? All of them?

His right hand reached around, finding her clit.

“Oh, god! Oh god!” Her head twisted into the pillow. He could feel her walls clutching him.

_This isn’t it,_ he told himself. _This is just part of the process._

He’d felt this before. And she hadn’t come.

Unfortunately, then and now, the sensation of her pussy fluttering around him, the sight of her fingernails digging into the mattress, the gasping noises muted by the pillows, all had him snapping his hips faster, almost to the edge.

He took a deep breath and tried slowing down, keeping the pressure quick and firm on her clit.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned. “Oh, Draco, please.”

_Draco, please._

He pressed bruises into her hip, fingers cramping on her clit, hips crashing against her backside, deep as he could go.

He came, bright as sunlight, cursing and gasping.

He bent over her, one hand supporting him, and little shockwaves running through his blood.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. He kissed her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

The hand between her legs was squeezing her thigh. He shifted back to her center.

“Let me keep going,” he whispered.

She turned underneath him to be on her back. “Shh,” she said. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine—“ he started.

“The wave left.” She smiled up a him, lazily. 

He pouted and rolled off of her onto his back.

“What is it that you mean when you talk about the waves?” he asked, staring at the canopy ceiling of the bed, frowning.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad!” He huffed. He took a deep breath. “I’m not mad,” he said again. “I just don’t understand why you stop me.”

She was quiet. He kept his eyes on the canopy.

“It’s like waves in the ocean.” 

He looked over to her. She wrinkled her nose. 

“Well, that sounds silly, but it’s the best I’ve got,” she said. She sighed. “It’s like the closer they get to shore, the bigger and more aggressive they get. And I can feel my whole body tightening, and trembling, and just when it’s supposed to crash, just when what I’m reaching for is almost there….”

She was reaching toward the ceiling with her arms, fingers spread.

“Nothing,” she said. “It’s like a wall. Like a… dam… for the water metaphor.” She dropped her arms. “So, whenever I say you can stop, it’s because nothing’s happening in me anymore. A wall.”

Draco blinked at her. Then snorted.

She snapped her head to look at him. Her jaw dropped. “Are you _laughing_ at me?”

He cackled. “No,” he said, laughing. “It’s just… isn’t your Patronus a beaver? And now you’re having problems with your dams?”

He laughed, throwing his head back.

“It is _not_ a _beaver_ ,” she hissed. “It’s an _otter!”_

This only made him laugh harder. “Same thing!”

“It is _not!”_ She huffed and sat up. “I don’t see what’s so funny!”

“Your problem is your Patronus, Granger! Your spirit animal keeps blocking your sexual appetite!”

“That is preposterous!” She slapped his chest. 

“Ow!”

“Besides! You’re mixing up your ecosystems! I said the _ocean_ —“

“And then you brought up the dam your beaver has been building—“

“Stop it!”

She twisted his nipple.

“OW! Merlin’s Beard!” 

She moved to grab his other nipple and he caught both of her wrists. 

“This isn’t funny!” she growled as she fought him off.

He pinned her wrists to the bed and climbed on top of her, smiling. “I’m only laughing at the irony that your _beaver_ —“

“Otter!”

“Not talking about your Patronus anymore.” He winked at her. She rolled her eyes. “Your _beaver_ is having trouble with a dam.”

She glared up at him. “Are you done?”

He grinned, taking in the sight of her body underneath his, her wrists pinned to the mattress next to her shoulders. 

“Alright, I heard you, Granger. The waves are gone.” He shifted his hips, finding a more comfortable position on top of her. He lowered his head to her neck. He whispered, “And you don’t like it when I try to create my own waves?”

He kissed her neck, just brushing his lips across the skin. His hands slid up from where they pressed her wrists into the bed, and met her palms, lacing their fingers. She took a sharp, deep breath, and he could almost feel her breasts skim his chest.

“No,” she said. “You can create your own waves.” He heard her smile through her words. He sucked at her jaw. “Just right after… right when I hit the wall, it feels strange. Almost pointless.”

Her shoulders shifted, like she’d forgotten he had her pinned. She curled her fingers against his knuckles. He licked and kissed down to her collarbone. Her skin was salty from the past half hour.

Just as he was making a path toward her breast, ready to take her nipple in his mouth and torture it, she asked, “What’s your Patronus?”

He looked up at her. Her eyes were on the ceiling. 

“We’ll find out in June at my N.E.W.T. exams I guess.”

Her eyes snapped down to him, and he almost chuckled at the way her neck wrinkled at this angle.

“You haven’t cast a Patronus?”

He shook his head, a small movement. She blinked at him.

“Oh,” was all she said. She turned her eyes back to the ceiling, mind working.

Before she could think too hard about his inability to conjure a happy enough memory, he kissed the area between her breasts and said, “Who knows though, Granger. Now that I have the image of your tits in my mind…” 

He pulled her nipple into his mouth.

She scoffed. “You think you can cast a Patronus while thinking about my tits?”

He released her with a _pop._

“They do make me very happy,” he purred.

She rolled her eyes at the ceiling, and he pressed his mouth to her other breast. Lowering himself to his elbows, he let go of her hands and they immediately slid into his hair. He moaned with her nipple against his tongue and he saw chills run through her. He took his time, swirling his tongue, sucking, closing his lips around her, light bites to the untouched skin under her breast. Her fingers traced patterns into his scalp. 

“They’re just breasts,” she said, rather suddenly. “Every girl has them.”

He looked up at her. She was staring at the ceiling still, but a frown was working at her features, her mind moving too much.

He laughed lightly. “Not like these.” He shifted so his hands could fill with them. “Merlin, have you seen these tits, Granger?”

She huffed and dropped her hands to his shoulders. “Of course, I have,” she said, tone snotty. 

“But have you _really_ seen them?” 

“I see them every day in the mirror, Malfoy,” she deadpanned. 

He held her eyes as he brought his lips to her nipple. “Lucky girl,” he murmured, then sucked on her. 

She took a sharp breath in, but something in her body language told him she was quite done discussing her tits. 

He rolled off of her, laying on his side to face her, and letting his left arm rest across her stomach. His eyes raked down her body and he felt his cock come to life again. His fingers traced patterns on her stomach, spinning tiny circles around her bellybutton, sliding around her ribs, and dipping over her breasts, still sharp peaks.

Her body was relaxing and humming all at once. She closed her eyes, stretching her arms past her head. He couldn’t help but notice her legs fall open for him, and every path his fingers traced across her skin brought him closer to her core.

He heard himself ask the question he’d been thinking about all day. “Do you ever fake it?” 

She smiled, but kept her eyes closed. “With a _lot_ of people. Especially if they are overly enthusiastic about getting me off first.” He skimmed her breast again, and she arched just slightly as his fingers passed by without touching her where she wanted. “It wasn’t until I told Blaise about my… situation… that I stopped worrying about it.”

His fingers stuttered on her ribs. He changed direction.

“Why did you tell Blaise?”

She sighed as he circled her hipbone. 

“He noticed. I faked it with him a couple of times and he called me out on it.”

A couple of times. 

“How many times did you and Blaise get together?” he asked.

“I dunno. A half dozen or so.”

Draco felt his teeth grinding, so he released his jaw.

“But you’ve never faked anything with me,” he said, almost a question.

She opened her eyes and looked over at him. “Have I given you the impression that I’ve come?”

“No, I mean, the moments in between,” he said. He dragged his fingers across her belly. “The moans, the gasps. Have you faked it?”

“No. Not that I’m aware of.” She was confused, and he felt silly for even asking. “Sometimes it’s nice to ‘fake it until you make it.’ Kind of give myself encouragement and a little show, could help turn me on.” She raised a brow at him. “But I haven’t faked anything with you for _your_ benefit.”

He nodded, and looked down to where her hips were shifting, small movements. He thought of Theo and his claim that she’d “screamed like a banshee.”

“You faked it with Theo Nott?”

“I’m sure I did.”

Draco smiled. Theo was so sure she came. 

He brought his fingers up her side, climbing her ribs, and grazing the ticklish places under her arm. 

“Can I see?” he asked.

“See what?” She was breathless, eyes closed. 

“See you fake it.”

Her eyes snapped open. “What? Why?” She pulled up on her elbows.

He grinned at her, moving his hand to cup her breast. “Just as a point of reference. Granger, I want to look back on this moment when I finally do make you come and say, ‘yeah, the real thing is so much better.’”

“What, you want me to just do it right here?” she flung her arm out, like there were millions of spectators. “Like _When Harry Met Sally?”_

He sneered. “Are you bringing Potter into this?”

She laughed. “No, no. It’s a film. She fakes… never mind.” She grinned and let her thoughts drift.

“I could always give you some inspiration,” he said. He rolled onto her, knee between her legs, holding himself above her. 

“You’re ready?” She asked with wide eyes.

“I could be.” He shrugged. A difficult thing to do while holding himself up. “The idea of you squirming and screaming my name has gotten me hard again.”

“How do you know I’m a screamer? _Or_ that I’ll say your name?”

“Because you are faking it, with _me,_ and that’s what one’s supposed to do!” He stared down at her like she was insane. “What are you going to do, scream out ‘Krum!’”

She laughed, and he kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. He slid his hand up her side, and kissed her neck. She turned her mouth to his ear and whispered, “Oh, Harry.”

“Fuck no!” Draco pulled away and she cackled. “That shit’s not funny.”

She took in his face and laughed again.

He frowned down at her and shifted so he could press right against her entrance. He entered her swiftly. 

She gasped. Surprised, more than anything, because she was still just as wet as she had been fifteen minutes ago.

He groaned feeling her around him again. She grabbed his arms and brought one leg up to his hip. He started slow, holding himself up over her, using his hips to set the pace. She stared up at him, lips open and eyes half-closed. 

Bringing his lips to her jaw, he kissed and sucked, until she turned her head to kiss his mouth. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he lowered down to his elbows. Her nails scraped through his hair as her tongue invaded his mouth. Her legs locked behind his waist.

He pulled away from her, taking a breath, trying to remember what it was they were doing. He kissed her neck, sucking on her ear. Her breath was hot against his face.

“Oh, Viktor. Ooo Yes.”

“Have you ever tried asphyxiation, Granger? ‘Cause we’re about to try if you don’t cut that out.”

She laughed a melody. He punctuated it with his thrusts. She gasped, grabbing for him. He watched her as her whole body moved with his driving hips. 

She met his eyes.

“Do you want me to come with you?” she said.

His hips snapped hard against hers. “Fuck…”

He wished this wasn’t fake. He wished to feel her around him, and know that he earned her.

“Yes,” he managed to get out through his teeth. “Right before. I want to watch you.”

He raised up, holding himself above her on one hand, his other on her waist to guide her hips. He watched where their bodies connected.

“Mm. Oh, god.”

He looked up. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were pressed together. Was this the beginning of it?

Her hands ran up and down his arms, her nails pressing lightly on the way down. Heavy breaths leaving her chest.

“Mm yes.” She stretched her neck, tilting her face to the side. He moved to kiss her there. She sighed as he pressed hot, open-mouth kisses against her. Her legs dropped from his waist, her feet pressed into the mattress as she started thrusting back.

Each time he filled her a whine left her lips. He bit down on her neck, and she groaned, grabbing for his hips. 

Draco slid open his knees further, and reached under one of her legs, bringing the knee to their ribs. He rocked into her, and brought their chests together, feeling her breasts slip against him with sweat.

Her hands went to his hair again.

“Draco, please…”

It didn’t feel as damning this time. They both knew she was going to fake it. They both knew he wanted her to moan for him, scream for him. 

He tried to concentrate on the illusion. He moved his lips over hers. He rocked his hips forwards, a quick pace. 

She kissed him hard, dragging his head to hers, not letting them breathe. When she did take a breath, it was to murmur “Fuck yes!” against his mouth.

He moaned into her. 

Her muscles squeezed him. He almost popped. He started touching every part of her he could reach, driving into her without a rhythm.

“Yes, Draco! Yes, right there!” She threw her head back, eyes closed. 

He focused on her, watching her face. Her lips open and breathing hard. Her eyelashes fluttering. She squeezed him again.

“Fuck,” he hissed into her. She opened her eyes and they locked onto him.

“Draco.” She moved her hands to his shoulders, digging her nails in. “Oh, Draco.” 

He knew his face was wide and open, greedy for her. His mouth was open, breathing heavy on her face. His eyes were drinking her in. And he could forget it wasn’t real. 

She bit her lip, and small sounds wrenched from her throat on every thrust. He let his chest drop onto hers fully. He dipped his head and kissed her cheek. 

“Yes, yes!” She cried. She raked her nails down his back, then winding them into his hair. Her walls fluttered on him, and her legs squeezed him. “Draco, yes!”

He watched as her face twisted and then smiled, breathing deep. She batted her eyes at him.

He smashed their mouths together. He pounded his hips against her, pushing his tongue into her mouth in the same rhythm. She moaned. She grabbed his ass. She bit his lip.

“Oh, fuck!” he whispered. He came inside of her, feeling her squeezing him. He pumped himself into her heat for as long as he could, slowing, drawing it out. She kissed him. 

When he was done, simply laying on top of her, enjoying her mouth, she pulled back.

“Well, was it convincing?”

His eyes glazed over. It took several seconds for that familiar guilt to rush back into him.

~*~

They were getting dressed when he finally spoke again.

“You know,” he started, “I’m almost something of an orgasm expert at this point.”

“Oh really,” she teased.

“Yes, I’ve read lots of books on it now.”

She smiled.

“And something it says,” he said, “is that it can feel different for each woman.” He fastened his belt buckle. “It may not be all the explosions and cliff-jumping that some women feel.” He looked up at her. She was clasping her bra. “It may be less.”

She turned to him, reaching for her shirt. She paused when she realized that was all he was going to say. “Okay… What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say…” He hesitated. “Are you sure you’re not having them?” He gestured with his hand between the two of them. “What with the waves, and all?”

She blushed and looked away from him. “God, I hope that’s not _all_ I have to look forward to.”

“I only meant—“

“I know what you meant,” she said, shoving her arms through her shirt. “I’m pretty positive I’m not having orgasms, Draco. There’s no relaxation, or peak of pleasure, or any of that. Just a wall.” She forced the buttons on her shirt to cooperate. “Thanks for claiming to know my body better than I do, though.”

He sighed. “I didn’t…” He watched her fumbling with her skirt now, several buttons on her blouse still undone, clearly trying to leave as fast as possible. “I’m just trying to—“

“You know, Ron and I had this exact same conversation,” she said, grimacing down at her shoes as she pulled them on. “Funny.”

A chill ran up his arms. He didn’t like that at all. He approached her, and she eyed him as he reached up and finished her buttons for her. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’ve never had a female orgasm,” he said, grinning, “so I shouldn’t assume that I know.” He watched her shoulders relax. “But the things your body does when you’re close. It’s…”

He struggled to put it into words while she looked at him. She sent him a small grin.

“Did I convince you a little too well?”

He blinked at her, finishing her buttons, and pretending to smooth down her shirt, just so he could hold onto her waist.

“It’s confusing to me, that’s all,” he said.

“It’s confusing to me, too.” Her voice was quiet.

He lifted his eyes from where they inevitably got stuck on her chest, to her face. 

“I shouldn’t have made you do that,” he said. “The pretending. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t make me do anything.” She smiled. Her hands trailed up her arms, and gripped his shoulders. “I liked it.”

She pressed up on her toes and kissed him. Draco felt himself melting against her. He pushed her back against the bed post, and did his best not to undo all the work of getting her dressed.

“Did you like it? The pretending?” she whispered into his mouth.

“Too much.” 

She smirked at him and pressed herself against his body, kissing his jaw. “I like that you like it.” 

Draco thought about the way she dropped to her knees in front of him two nights ago, even when he begged her not to. The way she liked to watch him come, even as he held himself back. 

She would do it again for him. Pretend, for him. He pulled away and looked into her eyes.

“Don’t ever pretend for me,” he said. He watched her brow furrow.

“…Okay.”

“Just because I like it, doesn’t mean I want you to fake it.” He pushed her messy hair out of her face. “I’ll like it more when it’s real.”

She bit her lip. “If it’s ever real.”

“It will be.” He kissed her neck. “I’m just getting started with you, Granger.”

She shivered.

He smirked down at her and pulled away. “I already know what we’re doing tomorrow night.” He went to collect the rest of his clothes.

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” she said. 

He turned back to her, a weight dropping in his stomach. “You have plans?” 

When was her “date” with Theo?

She raised her brows. “Uh, no… But I assumed _you_ had plans.” She blushed. “It’s Friday.”

She clearly thought he had a more exciting life than he actually did. Well, that was all well and good, seeing as he thought she was prissy, bookworm virgin up until a week ago.

“I have cleared my calendar in favor of your orgasm.” He bowed dramatically. 

She scoffed. “How kind of you.”

“Meet me in the Prefects’ Bath at nine,” he said.

Her eyes flipped to him, and he smirked as he left.

~*~

Blaise was still up by the time he made it back to the common room.

“How’s Miss Granger?” he said, a smirk tilting his lips as he stared down at his Charms homework.

“Fantastic,” Draco said, sharp and to the point.

Blaise grinned. Draco continued to the stairs.

“Oh,” Blaise said, stopping him. “I didn’t know if you wanted to keep this affair private, so I haven’t told Theo.”

Draco frowned and turned to him. “Theo?”

“Yes, I thought I’d let you speak to him,” Blaise said, scribbling down a note.

“About what?”

“He’s still under the impression that he has a little date with her on Saturday.”

Saturday. Draco had run out of time. But the likelihood of Theo giving her what she wanted was so low—

He’d been silent for too long. 

“I still don’t see what I need to discuss with him,” Draco said.

Blaise’s quill stopped. He looked up at him and raised a brow.

“We’re shagging, not engaged,” Draco added on.

Blaise scoffed, and leveled a condescending gaze on him. “Draco,” he chided.

Draco didn’t like the look Blaise gave him. Like he knew something Draco didn’t. He turned back to the stairs.

“Goodnight, Blaise.”

“So, you’re not exclusive then?” he called after him. Draco paused. “You’re fucking other girls and she’s free to fuck other blokes.”

Draco looked back to him. Blaise picked up his teacup, and took a long, drawn-out sip.

“Of course,” Draco said. “We’re just experimenting with a few things. Trying to see if she’ll come.” His voice was confident and strong.

Blaise tilted his head. “Hm.” He nodded, pressing his lips together. “Then you won’t mind if I give her another go?” He sipped his tea again, watching Draco over the brim. He swallowed. “Or will that ruin your… experiments.”

Draco felt ice pricking at his ribs. He bit his tongue to keep from speaking for a moment. 

Theo was a joke. Hardly capable in the bedroom, and not an intellectual match for her at all. But Blaise…

“Not at all,” he managed. He raised his brows. “If she can make time for you. I’m keeping her very busy.” He smirked at Blaise.

Blaise smirked back. “I’m sure you are.”

Draco turned and flew up the stairs to the dormitories.

~*~

Draco watched her at breakfast on Friday, wondering if she was seeing anyone else.

Fucking Finnigan was there flirting with her again. She laughed when he reenacted some stupid moment from earlier in the week.

It was impossible. He’d taken up every free moment she had this week.

She’d caught him staring a few times, and had blushed and smiled quickly before looking away.

“What are you doing with Granger tomorrow, Theo?”

Blaise’s question pulled his attention off of her. He stared down at his breakfast, ears open.

“Going to meet her in Hogsmeade. Walk her back to the castle and find somewhere to fool around.”

Draco swallowed. His tea tasted like mud.

“Draco might know some spots,” Blaise said. Draco snapped his head up to glare at him across the table. “He’s had her a few times.” Blaise winked at him.

Theo choked on his toast. He looked to Draco, sitting next to him, and Draco could almost see Theo shifting away from him.

“You’re shagging Granger?” Theo asked.

Draco glared at Blaise. “Just once or twice,” he said. Blaise smiled.

Theo took a sip of juice and said, “I guess, er… I can cancel.”

Draco stared at him. “Why would you cancel on my account?”

Theo opened his mouth, and no sound came out. Blaise took a gleeful sip of tea. Mollywaddle’s eyes shot back and forth between them, like watching a Quaffle. 

“She’s free to fuck whomever she wants,” Draco continued. “We’re not… together or anything like that.”

Theo looked to Blaise, helplessly. Blaise rolled his eyes.

“You lot are being ridiculous.” Draco stood from the table and scrambled for his belongings. He stomped away and headed to his long day of classes.

~*~

She arrived at the Prefects’ Bath five minutes early, just as he was filling the tub. He let her pick her favorite scents and choose the color of bubbles.

He had her sit on the edge of the tub, with him in the water, her legs thrown over his shoulders while he devoured her. When she finally pulled his head away from her, smiling and saying, “9.5,” he lifted her into the tub, and pressed her back against the side. She twisted her legs around him underwater and he slid into her so easily. She scratched at his back and tugged his hair until he kissed her, not caring about tasting herself on his lips. He had to hold the side of the tub awkwardly to find a way to thrust into her, but the sight of the bubbles floating, covering her breasts gave him strength.

His whole plan had been to fool around a bit in the tub, then take her to the showers for her shower sex fantasy. But he’d gotten a bit… distracted. 

He slowed and pulled out of her, even with her “No, don’t stop. No, no, no.” But he really needed to stop listening to her when she was at this point. Continuing had never helped them, especially when he always came shortly after these words were spoken.

He floated them over to the shallow end where there were a few underwater seats carved into the tub. She never stopped touching him, letting her hands wander lower and lower beneath the water until he had to remove them.

He guided her onto the stone seat, reaching behind her and finding the jet he knew was there. She kissed his ear.

He positioned her so the pumping water hit her lower back, and she purred. Draco pulled back to look at her. The lower half of her hair was wet and soapy, while her scalp was relatively dry. The underwater seat brought her to the perfect height for him to slip back inside of her, which she must have assumed was the plan. She spread her legs and pulled his hips into her, wrapping her fingers around his cock. She pumped him several times before he could stop her, and he groaned as his arm on the edge of the tub supported him, leaning forward. She kissed his chest, running her tongue over him, twisting her fist just right.

“Wait, wait,” he whispered. Her fist moved faster. “Oh, fuck.”

She pressed up and kissed him, wrapping her free arm around his shoulders, pressing her slippery chest to his. He moaned into her mouth.

Her thumb moved over his head, and he pushed his hips forward.

No, no, no.

“Okay,” he said, pulling his mouth from her. “Okay, okay.” He moved her hand off of him and she pouted. “Turn around.”

Her eyes went wide, and she licked her lips. He helped her to kneel on the seat, and positioned her until the jet hit her right between the legs.

“Oh!” She grabbed for the ledge of the tub.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

“It’s… it’s good.” She leaned her head back on his shoulder. He ran his hands up her sides until they cupped her breasts. He flicked her several times, pulling and swirling until she hummed.

He moved up into her hair, trying to wet the dry parts. She let him tilt her back until her scalp was wet. He reached for one of the taps nearby and shampoo filled his hand. He rubbed it into her hair, pulling up the heavy ends and massaging the potion into the back of her head. She moaned, and he tried to ignore the way his cock pressed against her backside when she started to move her hips.

He tilted her back again, working to get the suds out of her hair. She used the opportunity to spread her legs further, and get closer to the jet. “Oh, god.”

He reached for a soap tap, and started working the bubbles against her shoulders and arms. She was gyrating slowly against the jet stream, and had somehow found the perfect way to move her ass against his cock. He soaped up her chest, enjoying the way her tits dripped. He spent a long time on them, rubbing the soap in, working up a lather over her chest that had her giggling and moaning. 

He moved his hands lower, over her stomach and she hissed, “Yes,” before he even touched her. He felt where the jet was working against her clit, and he added his fingers. 

“Oh, god. Oh, Draco, please.” She dropped her head forward, her arms holding her up against the side of the tub. 

He used both hands to rub large circles between her legs, and he suddenly realized he was pushing her back against him, rubbing himself against her ass. 

“Please, inside,” she said, reading his mind. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. 

“Not here. I’m going to take you to the showers next.”

“No, no,” she jerked her hips as his fingers pressed hard on her clit. “I can’t wait. I want you inside.”

He slid his fingers down, passing the jet, and slipping two inside of her. “Like this?”

She groaned, but shook her head no. She let go of the wall and reached behind her, grabbing his cock and shifting onto him. He was half inside before he could stop her. 

“Oh, Granger, no,” he moaned into her shoulder. 

She laughed and started moving up and down. She gasped every time the jet stream hit her where she wanted it.

He stood there, helpless as she bounced on him. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders, twisting down her back and tickling his chest. He grabbed the side of the tub in front of them, and put his other hand on her hips. Her hips had a mind of their own and were moving so fast, he didn’t think any thrusts of his could keep up.

“Yes!” she cried. She threw her head back on his shoulder. “Yes, please!”

He watched her chest bounce, her body gyrate and her fingers scratch his arm as she fucked herself on him. 

He could do this. He stood very still, giving her the exact angle she wanted, and he closed his eyes, thinking of something else instead of the way her tits were still soapy and her hair smelled like lavender and sex, and the heat of her mouth as she breathed on his cheek.

He could do this. 

He didn’t have to come. He could outlast her. She’d hit her wall soon anyway. 

Her muscles squeezed him as high pitched gasps popped from her throat. 

“Touch me.” 

Well, thanks, Granger. His thighs tightened. He pressed his lips together, and the hand on her hip slid down to work her clit. 

“Yes!” She gasped. She leaned forward, thrusting her backside out to him more. She couldn’t work her hips as fast from this angle. “Draco, I need… I need…”

He could do this. 

He leaned forward, pressing his chest against her back, took hold of the wall, and began a quick pace against her, fingers moving just as fast on her clit.

She cried, and squeezed him, and if Draco didn’t know better, he’d say that was it. That was her orgasm. But he knew better. 

The water was moving in rapids around them. He pounded into her, pressing her closer and closer to the jet in the wall that was hopefully giving her some stimulation still. Her breathing was ragged and small sounds were choking out of her. 

He could do this.

He wanted to come inside of her in the shower. 

So, he could do this.

Her breath cut off, and her walls fluttered around him.

It took him a few more fast thrusts to realize she was catching her breath, hips meeting him at a lesser pace.

“Did you hit the wall?”

She nodded.

He slowed and pulled out of her.

“What are you doing?” she groaned. 

He kissed her jaw. “I told you I was taking you to the shower next.”

She smiled and let him lead her out of the tub. He got her in the showers, pink bubbles floating everywhere, and after spending some time making sure the waves were moving again, he pushed into her, his cock almost too ready. The water fell over them as his wet skin slapped hers, holding her leg up and pressing her back against the stone tiles. She twisted her fingers in his hair, and never let his mouth leave hers. He came with a shout, so much better for holding out longer. When he opened his eyes, she was watching him with her lips parted and her eyes glossy.

He found them a pair of fluffy towels and robes while she cleaned up. She left the curtain open so he could watch her lather herself again, this time showing off her ass as the soap dripped down, rounding her cheeks. He caught himself staring and realized that she was slipping the lather down her back on purpose, watching him over her shoulder. 

Once her hair was wrapped on top of her head he asked, “What do you think got in the way in the tub? Was there anything you were thinking about?”

She swallowed. “I honestly felt like it was about to happen.” She looked away. “I started thinking too much, possibly. And once I wondered what it was going to be like, that’s when I hit the wall.”

She frowned down at the tiles. 

“Better than a 9.5?” He smirked.

She scowled up at him. “Don’t get too cocky. I’d say most of that score belongs to the water jet.”

He laughed. “I think we need to get you out of your head. I have few ideas.” He slipped off his robe and started searching through the pile of his clothes. 

“Um,” she started. “I can’t meet tomorrow actually.”

He frowned at his trunks, and his jaw clenched. Theo. Of course.

“That’s alright,” he said, stepping into his trunks and then trousers. “I have some research to do for us. And I suppose exams are coming up soon…”

“And, er… I can’t meet for the next few days actually.”

His eyes snapped up to her. She was slipping her bra on, fumbling with the clasp. 

“Why?” he asked before he could stop himself. Did she have several dates lined up? Finnigan? Did Blaise sneak his way into her calendar—

“I, um…” She picked up her blouse and struggled to find the front of it. His stomach tightened, watching her be awkward about her dates, the other blokes she was shagging, and he thought he might need to find himself a few girls in the meantime— “I have my monthly starting tomorrow, that’s all.”

He blinked at her. She blushed.

“Oh,” he said. She bit her lip and nodded. He scowled at her. “What about Theo?”

She stared at him. “Nott? What about him?”

“You’re meeting with him tomorrow, aren’t you?” he said, almost an accusation.

Her eyes grew wide. “Uh, yes.” She slipped her skirt on. “I didn’t know all the Slytherin boys liked to talk so much…” She pressed her lips together. “He’s meeting me in Hogsmeade tomorrow afternoon—“

“And then you’ll have a shag, I know,” Draco said, rougher than he meant it. “So, how’s that work with your monthly?”

She stuck her hands on her hips. “Who says we’re having a shag?” She glared at him.

He leveled a condescending glare on her. “Theo.”

He watched as she blinked at him. Then her brows relaxed, and she took a breath, looking away. “Oh. I see.” She bit her lip, and he felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “I guess I’ll need to let him know…” She drifted off and reached for her shirt. 

“Granger.”

“He just said he’d meet me in Hogsmeade,” she said, shaking her head. “But I should have assumed…”

She buttoned her shirt as she kicked on her shoes. 

“Maybe I have it wrong,” Draco said. “Maybe that’s not what he—“

“No, I’m sure you’re quite right.” She skipped a few buttons. “It was silly of me to think…” She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

He stood still and watched her. “Did you _want_ to go on a date with Theo?” He could feel his heart bumping against his ribs.

She shrugged, finishing with her clothes. “No,” she said, lightly. “I just… thought he asked me.” She grabbed her things. “I’ll let you know when we can meet again.” She smiled at him, but her eyes were tight.

She slipped through the door before he could stop her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has become common knowledge that Hermione Granger cannot have an orgasm. Many have tried, none have succeeded. Can Draco Malfoy offer his assistance? // 8th Year AU - WIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the patience and reviews! 
> 
> Also, it seems like some of you don't really like the characterizations or the plot or the sex or the Slytherins or the non-virgin 18-year-olds or the style or the syntax or the words. Great. Thank you. Noted. I'm still writing this and I'm still writing those other fics you like better than this. Thanks! Have a great day!

As much as Draco wished he and Granger were having sex every day for the foreseeable future, he was quite happy for the break. He had errands to run. Things to buy. Research to… research.

Draco was one of the first students out the door Saturday morning on the way to Hogsmeade, skipping breakfast entirely and practically running over the footbridge and snow to get to J. Pippin’s Potions before any of his classmates could see him.

He browsed a few shops, stopping at Honeydukes for his usuals, but none of the shops in Hogsmeade were _designed_ for what he needed. He was really only making do. He dropped into Tomes and Scrolls, the tiny bookshop, and found a few books of what he was looking for, but again, not a lot.

Feeling quite frustrated with the limited materials Hogsmeade had to offer him, he went last to the owl post, writing to a few shopkeepers in Knockturn Alley. It was nearing one o’clock, so he stopped into the Three Broomsticks for a Butterbeer before heading back up.

He tripped over his feet to see Theo sitting at one of tables inside. He jumped behind the coatrack, and dipped his head out to search for Granger. 

But she was nowhere to be found.

Theo was sitting with Terry Boot and Mumford, or whatever his name was.

Draco’s eyes raked the rest of the pub, searching for wild curls. Nothing. There was no evidence of a spare Butterbeer glass on their table either.

“Staying or going, sweetheart.”

Draco jumped. Madame Rosemerta had found him lurking.

“Er, just looking for my friends.”

She raised a brow at him and continued collecting dirty glasses.

Draco moved toward Theo’s table. When Theo looked up and caught sight of him, a similar expression of curiosity and dismay crossed his face.

“Draco!” Mozzarella welcomed him. 

Draco scowled at the boy, unimpressed with his “familiarity.”

“Theo. Boot,” Draco greeted, grabbing the chair next to Theo. He turned to flag Rosemerta, but the busty witch was already setting down his Butterbeer, smirking at him.

“What brings you out of the castle, Draco?” Theo asked. 

Draco swallowed his first sip of Butterbeer, relishing the smooth drink. “Had some errands. And you?” He turned his gaze on Theo. “Where’s Granger?”

Theo blinked at him. “I assumed she was with you, actually.” He reached for his glass, but didn’t sip. “She cancelled.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. Cancelled altogether?

“I have no plans with her today.” Draco flicked his eyes to Mulberry and Boot. They were chatting about Quidditch, pretending not to listen to Draco and Theo. “What did she say?” Draco tried for light and conversational, but there was really no way around the curiosity. 

“Said she was ill.” Theo shrugged. “Hope you don’t catch it,” he said, smiling and slapping Draco on the back.

Draco grimaced, and turned his attention to Mercurio and Boot again, jumping down the former’s throat when he gave his opinion on the Cannons this year. An incorrect opinion.

~*~

He dropped by the library before dinner, hoping to run into her. Not there.

He looked for her in the Great Hall. She never came down to dinner.

Finally, he conned a Gryffindor fifth year into calling Granger down to see him as he paced the corridors outside the portrait of the Fat Lady. 

When the wall squeaked open and Granger appeared, not even her pink terrycloth robe, hair pulled up in a messy bun, and hard look on her face could squash his relief.

“What?” she snapped at him.

“Are you actually ill? Or are you just taking a very medieval approach to this whole menstruation thing.”

She blinked at him. And set her hands on her hips.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” she hissed. “Do you know how mortifying it is having a fifteen-year-old girl come into your crowded dormitory to tell you ‘Draco Malfoy wants you?’”

He smirked. “That’s not quite what I said to her—“

“And then I heard her go giggling into the fifth year girls’ dormitory—“

“Ashamed to be seen with me, Granger?”

She opened her mouth to reply and the words got caught in her throat. “I… I just… What do you want?!”

“Merlin! These mood swings are not my favorite on you.”

She stomped her foot, and just before she hissed back at him, a gaggle of Gryffindors turned the corner, stopping at the sight of them. Hermione looked down at her feet as they passed into the portrait. Draco met their eyes with a smile.

Once they were inside, and the hall was quiet again, she finally looked back up at him. 

“How can I help you?”

He was distracted by her feet. Barefoot. Little pink toenails. 

She pulled her robe tighter around herself, and he thought of how cold the stones must be beneath her feet. 

He flicked his wand and conjured a fluffy pair of bunny slippers to match her robe.

She blinked down at them, and then slipped her feet inside.

“You weren’t at dinner,” he said. “Are you ill?”

“Just taking a personal day, really. The first day is… not wonderful.”

He nodded. As if he understood.

“Will you feel better tomorrow, do you think?”

She stared at him. “Possibly.”

“What about Monday?”

“Probably better still.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Excellent. I’ll meet you in the Room of Requirement on Monday evening.” He reached into his robes for the envelope he brought with him.

“I… What do you – I mean,” she stammered and took a breath. “I will still be… on my cycle on Monday.”

“I didn’t say we were having sex on Monday.” He gave her an affected pout, placing his hand on his heart. “Merlin, Granger. If I knew you were only using me for my body…”

She glared at him. “I have Astronomy Monday night.”

He frowned at her. “But nothing Monday morning, yes? I’ll meet you at 10AM.” He produced the envelope as she stared at his shoulder. “You weren’t at dinner tonight, so I was unable to send you this.”

He held it out to her. She plucked it from him, like it would explode at any moment. “What is this?”

“Phase Two.” He smirked. She frowned. “I told you: we need to appeal to your mind.”

She read the front of it, eyes catching over the way he spiraled the letters of _Hermione_ across the envelope. Her lashes fluttered as she tore the wax seal, and pulled out the small, hand-written note. 

He watched her gaze float across the page, trying to decipher what it was. When her brows shot up, his lips twitched.

She looked up at him, and he smiled back at her. 

“Good night, Granger.” He turned on his heel and practically skipped down the hall, leaving her to read the rest of the words he’d hand-written out of the book:

_Graze your fingers_  
_against my skin_  
_like a soldier_  
_crossing a landmine_  
_throw your kisses_  
_like grenades_  
_into the trenches_  
_of my mouth_  
_carve bullet holes_  
_onto my chest_  
_and remind me_  
_of where it hurts_  
_let your moans_  
_sound like gunfire_  
_and your breath_  
_feel like death_  
_i'll come_  
_unarmed_  
_if you promise_  
_to destroy me_  
_make war  
_not love_ _

____

~*~

She showed up to breakfast on Sunday. Once the owls swooped in, he tapped his wand on an identical envelope with her name in cursive. It floated to her under the tables, completely missed by all as the owls descended.

He watched as she opened the _Daily Prophet,_ eyes devouring the front pages. She went to turn to the inside of the paper, when her gaze caught on the small envelope that had landed next to her plate.

She stared at it. Then up at him.

He smirked. 

She swallowed and reached to tear it open, looking down the table to make sure everyone else was too wrapped up in their breakfasts to notice her special delivery.

He watched her read. Hand-written again.

_And when I left you, I was so on fire_  
_with all your brilliant & ironic humor_  
_that after dinner I was still excited,_  
_and sleep refused to touch my eyes with quiet._  
_In bed & totally unstrung by passion,_  
_tossing in agony, I prayed for sunrise,_  
_when I could be with you in conversation._  
_But when my limbs, exhausted by their labor,_  
_lay on the bed in nearly fatal stillness,_  
_I made this poem for you, my beloved,  
_so you could take the measure of my sorrow._ _

____

He made sure to be licking cream off his thumb when she looked back up at him. She flushed and tucked the note into her bag, turning to catch the Weasley girl in conversation.

____

____

__~*~_ _

__  
Monday morning, after making sure she received his newest poem, he snuck off to the Room of Requirement to set up.

When she arrived ten minutes early, he had just finished lighting the candles.

____

“Where are you getting these poems,” she demanded, eyes taking in the room, noticing the absence of the bed, and dissecting his loose-fitting grey trousers and shirt.

____

“You don’t believe I wrote them myself?” He smiled innocently at her.

____

“I know you didn’t. I recognized one of them.”

____

“I found a book of love poems. I’ve been flipping through the erotic ones.” He winked at her.

____

Her gaze had settled on the comfortable table in the middle of the room. 

____

“What are we doing?”

____

“You’re getting a massage.” He smirked.

____

She pressed her lips together. “And where is my trained massage therapist?”

____

He gestured to himself. She glared. He waved her off. 

____

“The book says that as long as I don’t try to crack anything, I should be good.” Her eyes widened at “crack anything.” He turned to where the oil was heating to body temperature. 

____

“What book,” she hissed. 

____

“ _The Art of the Sensual Massage,_ ” he tossed over his shoulder. He pressed a little oil into his palms and walked over to her. He ignored the way she scowled at him, distrusting, and held his hands out to her. “How’s this scent? It’s the closest I could get to what you chose for the bath.”

____

She blinked at him, and leaned to breathe in the oil on his hands. 

____

“Lavender.” She looked up at him and he tried to ignore the way her eyelashes fluttered. “Lavender is fine.”

____

He smiled, feeling his cheeks warm. “Excellent.” He summoned a pink fluffy robe, identical to the one she wore Saturday night. “Miss Granger,” he said, giving a little bow. “Please undress there.” He gestured to a changing room in the corner. “To your comfort level.”

____

She stared at the fluffy robe. “Er… I’m still. I mean,” she said, turning to look at him. “There can’t be any penetration… or even any business at all, down there. I don’t know what you—“

____

“You can leave your knickers on. I’m just going to run my hands all over you for an hour.” He winked at her. She blushed. “Let’s say it’s research. See if we can’t discover any…” He squinted at the ceiling, trying to remember the word. “… erroneous zones?” 

____

Her brows lifted. “Erogenous?” 

____

“Yes, that’s it!” He smiled and shoved the robe into her arms, turning her to the changing room.

____

He lowered the lights while she changed. He stretched his arms and wrists. He fluffed the pillows. He adjusted the volume of the “forest sounds” coming out of his wand, bouncing around the room.

____

She came out of the corner, fluffy robe wrapped tight. 

____

“Miss Granger,” he said. He gestured to the table. “On your front.”

____

She came to the table, looking a bit lost, and then peeled the robe from her shoulders. He took it from her, hanging it on the wall, and trying not to let his eyes wander down her body. 

____

She’d left on her knickers, but nothing else. They were dark blue. And as she climbed up on the table, he noticed they were tight on her hips, leaving her perky cheeks bare.

____

Perfect. 

____

He grabbed a fluffy white towel and draped it over her backside. She turned over her shoulder to watch him, clearly having a hard time understanding the relaxation part of this.

____

She turned back and dropped her face into the hole for her head. 

____

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Make sure to let me know how everything feels.” Shivers across her back. “You can feel free to be very vocal.”

____

He heard her huff of annoyance directed at the floor. 

____

He gathered oil in his hands, rubbing them together, and finding the oil just this side of warm, taking a moment to stare down at the long stretch of her back.

____

Freckles he hadn’t noticed before. He’d been rather busy trying not to come the last time he’d been faced with the expanse of her back.

____

He placed his hands just below her shoulders. Her skin jumped. He chuckled, moving his hands in sweeping movements down her back. 

____

“How’s the temperature?”

____

“Fine.”

____

He smiled, and pressed into her back. He stood to the side of her, working on her left side, sweeping his hands, one after the other, from shoulder to hip, until she relaxed into the table. He walked around the table to her right side, grabbing more oil on the way. 

____

Her skin jumped again, and he worked the oil against her in the same way, shoulder to hip, just grazing the top of the towel.

____

There was a thin scar running the length of her right shoulder blade. He wouldn’t have noticed it before, but it was white against her honey skin. Hopefully it wasn’t anything to do with the war. It looked like it had been healed for years.

____

He moved to the top of the table, where her head lay in the cradle. He leaned into her shoulders, and said, “How’s the pressure so far?”

____

“Good.” Her voice soft and throaty. “Could be… can go more.”

____

“More?”

____

“Harder,” she whispered. 

____

He bit back his chuckle and his groan, and leaned more of his weight into the heels of his hands, kneading into her shoulders. 

____

He watched her ribs sigh. 

____

Pressing little footsteps down her spine, he walked his hands down, leaning over her completely. He pressed into the top of her hips, and her breath hitched. He dragged his thumbs back up, towards her shoulders. 

____

More oil, and he pulled her left arm from where she tucked it close to her body. He rubbed her soft skin, unmarked except for the shadow of a word on her forearm. This scar he knew.

____

“Does it hurt?” he asked, thumb tracing the “M.”

____

She shook her head in the cradle. “No.” 

____

He swept his hands down her arm, like brushing away the letters, feeling muscle in such a soft part of her. His fingers drifted down and pressed palm to palm with her, lacing their fingers and pressing his thumb against her palm. Pulling at her fingers, dancing over her wrist, slipping over her palm.

____

He repeated on her other arm. She had melted into the table, right where he wanted her. 

____

He moved toward her legs, admiring their length and the muscles in her calves. At her ankles, he dug his fingers in and began to rub both legs, oiling them up, and making his cock twitch. 

____

These loose-fitting trousers were a bit too loose.

____

He paused behind her knees, circling with his thumbs. Her toes curled under. He smiled. 

____

“Spread your thighs a bit.”

____

She took a deep breath, almost undoing all the relaxation of the past twenty minutes, and shifted her legs out barely enough. He stood at the side of her and rubbed the oil into her thighs. 

____

A soft sigh. 

____

He ran his thumbs just under the curve of her ass, and her thighs squeezed. He did it again. And again. 

____

And her thighs parted further. He moved the towel off of her.

____

Dragging his hands down, he ran tracks from her ankles up to the tops of her thighs, dipping into the space behind her knees. His touches became lighter, brushing strokes instead of digging thumbs. 

____

He crept higher, until he was rounding her cheeks on the way down.

____

A soft moan, dragged out of her by an exhale.

____

He circled her backside, both hands filling with her round skin, following the decadent line of her knickers and dropping off just before he got too close. 

____

The muscles in her legs squeezed each time. Her ribs moved faster against the table, and her hands had moved to grab the edges. 

____

He spent what felt like hours on her ass. Outward circles, bringing his fingers to her hips, and letting his thumbs press into her muscles that had her shoulders shifting. Inward circles that swept in between her thighs, parting her cheeks but moving no closer to where she wanted him.

____

Keeping one hand moving on her rounded flesh, Draco let his other hand press against her low back at the top of her knickers, moving lazy patters where the fabric met her skin. He dragged the fabric down slowly, watching the lace roll and slip over her oiled skin. 

____

“What are you doing?” A breathy sigh.

____

“Just to here.” He tucked her knickers under the swell of her cheeks. When she relaxed, he pushed his thumbs into her muscles again, sweeping up and out over all of her backside. He let his knuckles brush across her skin, watching the gooseflesh rise.

____

Her breathing came faster, her shoulder blades moving beneath her skin. He continued his circles on her cheeks, edging closer to her cleft, watching her skin crawl beneath him. 

____

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her low back. She twitched, and gasped. 

____

Rolling her knickers back up, secure on her hips, he whispered against her skin, “Time to turn over, Miss Granger.”

____

She took a shaky inhale, and lifted herself, turning over. She had lines on her face where the face cradle left little pillow creases. Adorable.

____

He vanished the face cradle, tucked the towel under her head for support, and tried not to linger on her breasts.

____

“You can close your eyes,” he said when he saw her watching him. 

____

She swallowed, and closed her eyes, turning her head to the side. 

____

Starting on her shoulders and neck, pushing into the muscles there, he traced down her arms again, tangling with her fingers, rubbing oil into her skin. Every time he trailed lightly across her collarbone, her nipples pulled tighter. 

____

Oiling his hands again, Draco moved down to her stomach. Long strokes down her ribs, missing her breasts by a wand’s width, spreading his hands across the entire expanse of her tight stomach. She pulled in tiny breaths, keeping her eyes closed, face turned away from him. He rubbed her hipbones, pressing softly against her abdomen, running circles around her bellybutton. 

____

And without a warning to her, he swept up, and covered her breasts with oil before sweeping down. 

____

She swallowed, but that was all the reaction she gave him.

____

He pressed into her sternum and ribs above her breasts, pretending to find muscles to massage there, curving around the crests of her. Her fingers twitched on the table.

____

Sweeping hands across her chest, as if he were just working on any muscle group, hand after hand, rolling waves over each breast. He dragged his palms down her chest, across her stomach, slowly to where her hipbones peeked out of the top of her knickers, back up to her breasts, passing to her shoulders, rounding down to repeat.

____

Every pass of his fingers across her nipples had her hands tightening, and her lips pressing together as he treated her breasts like any other part of her body. 

____

He grazed the sides on his way down to her hips. His palms pressed directly over them on his way up. And coming back down he pushed his fingers between them, rubbing into her sternum. 

____

Only when her hips finally shifted and a small breath came quickly from her parted lips, did he finally pause over them, giving them his full attention. Palms around the curves, fingers molding around the tops, and his thumbs encouraging her tight nipples to pull further. 

____

He watched her parted lips pull air carefully, trying not to let him see her reactions. From the corner of his eye he saw her toes spreading and curling independently. 

____

Fuck he was hard. 

____

She looked amazing. Oiled and ready. Her tits shining up at him from the candlelight. What it would feel like to slip against her. Maybe even let his cock slide across her stomach, up to her slippery tits, pulling them close together and pressing around him—

____

He took a breath.

____

The book said that it’s best for her if his own desires didn’t come into play. He refocused on her amazing slick chest, and the way his thumbs dragged over her. He pulled her nipples between two fingers, sliding and pinching. 

____

A small moan from her lips, and he looked up to find her face turned to him, watching him with dark eyes. 

____

“How’s the pressure?” He smirked at her.

____

She huffed a laugh, but shook her head in annoyance. “Fuck you.”

____

“You let me know the time and place.”

____

She tilted her head back, closing her eyes again. “This is supposed to be relaxing?”

____

“Is it not?” His thumbs danced over her nipples, grazing and pushing.

____

She hummed. “I’m really not relaxed right now.”

____

“Hm,” he said. He plucked her nipples a few times, like strings on a harp. Her stomach jumped and she bit her lip.

____

He smiled down at her, and started moving broad strokes against her chest again, sliding over her breasts and down her stomach. 

____

He moved toward her legs. More oil. 

____

Pushing into the muscles in her calves and thighs, he spread his fingers across her skin until her legs shined. 

____

As her eyes were still closed, he climbed up and kneeled in the space on the large massage table below her feet. He saw her take a deep breath, feeling the table move, but didn’t open her eyes. He moved his fingers around in tight circles around the bones of her right ankle, and dipping down to rub against her heel.

____

He hated people touching his feet. He didn’t mind “feet” as a concept, but his own were off limits. So, he wondered if she was ticklish as well.

____

Pressing into the sensitive skin of her arch, he watched her face as his thumbs moved against her. 

____

Her lips parted. That was all.

____

He lifted her leg, placing her heel on his knee, and started pushing his knuckles into her, keeping his light circles on her ankle with his other hand. Her tongue peeked out between her lips.

____

He alternated between light circles and deep lines against her arch, and started tracing lines from her ankle to her knee, curving around to the sensitive area behind her knee that made her hips shift.

____

He moved to her left foot, scooting closer to her, bending her leg more, and when he traced the skin of her calf and behind her knee, he continued little circles up her inner thigh.

____

She pressed her lips together, squeezing her eyes closed. 

____

She was squirming, breath coming in tight rhythms, when he finally started both hands sliding up her thighs and back down behind her knees. His thumbs would just barely pass the lace of her knickers at the center of her before coming back down. He’d let his fingers linger, pressing circles into the back of her knees, and then sliding up and starting slow movements where her thighs connected to her pelvis, pressing two fingers into the muscles on either side of the dark blue lace. Her thighs had fallen open long ago and he was able to press into the skin sliding around to her backside.

____

Merlin, he wanted to rip her knickers off and dive into her. 

____

He’d been staring at her undulating hips, letting his hands just run their patterns while his mind wandered. He hadn’t noticed when her hands had left the table and moved to cover her face, fingers curling into her hair.

____

“God, stop. Stop.”

____

He looked up at her finally. His hands stopped, fingers right next to her center. She heaved in air, and he watched her breasts rise with each lungful. She squeaked out a small sound, and then her hand was diving into her knickers, her other grabbing the edge of the table. She moaned, eyes closed, lips parted, as her fingers circled her clit under the lace.

____

He watched. Watched the material move over her knuckles, watched her rhythm and direction change, watched her face relax open when she liked something.

____

He moved his hands, continuing his pattern, and said, “Is this okay?”

____

“Yes. Please, keep going.”

____

He kept his pace slow, and kept his touch close to her, circling down and around to her knees. She threw her head back when he lingered there. 

____

Draco pulled one leg up, scooting forward until he could rest her calf on his shoulder, and massaged circles into the back of her knee with his thumbs. Her hips jerked and her fingers moved faster. He pressed his mouth under her knee and she gasped an airy sound. He sucked at the skin, his hands sliding down to continue where they’d been at her inner thighs, staying there while her hips rocked. 

____

A desperate sound tore from her throat, and he let her knee drop back to the table, leaning over her to press his lips against her breasts, oil sliding her into his mouth easily. Her hand snapped to his hair, keening and arching her back. When he moved to her other breast, she grabbed for the back of his shirt, pulling the neck over his head. He pulled back to take it off and when he could see her again, she was sitting up, grabbing for his neck and pulling his face to hers. 

____

She slammed their lips together, teeth clicking and her tongue pushing into him, one of her hands still moving against her clit. He leaned them back, hovering over her, kissing her and reaching for one of her breasts.

____

This… wasn’t really how this was supposed to go.

____

The book said it’s about your partner’s pleasure. If he tried to ignore his own desires to get off, it would be better for her. But _she_ was pretty actively seeking her own pleasure… 

____

His hand traveled down her stomach as her teeth nipped at his bottom lip, and he covered her hand, over her knickers, and whispered into her mouth, “Can I?”

____

“Please, please, please…” She threw her head back, squeezing her eyes shut. She took her hand out of her knickers, and over the lace he pressed down on her clit. “Yes…”

____

He continued her circles and strokes, over her knickers in case she didn’t want him to go under.

____

Both hands moved to his neck, dragging him down, closer to her, and he felt his chest slide against her slick skin.

____

He moaned into her hair, attaching to her neck below her ear. He pressed harder on her clit, moving roughly. Her hands skipped down his chest, reaching for the waist of his trousers.

____

_Focus on her. Focus on her._

____

He caught her hands and pulled them away. “It’s okay.”

____

“Draco, let me—“

____

“It’s okay,” he whispered against her ear. “Relax.”

____

Wrapping her arms around his chest so he couldn’t pull back from her, she ran her nails down his back as his rhythm on her clit picked up again, the soft lace between them pressing into her.

____

He had to lower down further, and her slick chest pushed against him as she pulled him close. He let his other hand move against her earlobe, fingers caressing the shell and pulling at the skin. He mimicked it with his mouth on her other one.

____

“Oh, god. Oh, god, yes.”

____

Her hips were jumping against his hand, pushing into him, and he knew he was hard against her hip, trying not to rut back, but then her hands grabbed for his hips, pulled him flush with her, and he lost his motto of _Focus on her_ for a few minutes as he pushed against her, grinding her into the table while she breathed heavy into his ear, begging him to go faster, pinning his hand between them, and digging her nails into his shoulder blades.

____

He was so close, his chest sliding against her, her scent mixing with the lavender around them, and her soft hips taunting him as she met his thrusts. 

____

“Oh, my g—oh! I think…” she breathed.

____

He pulled back to look at her, heart thumping. Her face was scrunched, her mouth dropped open. His hips snapped faster, hoping…

____

“Oh!” Her eyes snapped open, connecting to him. “This might… I think—“

____

“Shh,” he pushed against her mouth. “Don’t think.” He kissed her.

____

He ground into her. He pushed his tongue against her like she liked, swallowing her breath.

____

He slipped his fingers around, dipping under the lace and directly pushing against her clit. She groaned into his mouth and he pressed hard, rubbing the figure-eights. 

____

Her hands in his hair, tugging.

____

Her breasts sliding against him.

____

He could live here forever, slipping against her, his tongue, his chest, his fingers.

____

He pulled back to check with her. Her face pinched tight, sucking in air. 

____

Another breath. A moan. A jump of her hips.

____

And it was like he could see her hit the wall.

____

Her eyebrows twitched, her lips pressed together. She breathed.

____

She opened her eyes.

____

He almost sobbed _for her,_ from the pressure of it all.

____

Her lips parted to tell him, and before she could speak, he dropped his head to her shoulder, and pulled his hand from her knickers.

____

With some kind of inhuman strength, he stopped his hips from grinding into her.

____

She pushed her fingers through his hair, sliding down to his neck and back. He was so turned on, he could probably come from that if she just kept it up.

____

He lifted himself up, letting her catch her breath. 

____

“Do you tip massage therapists? I always forget,” she hummed, and her hands slid over his shoulders, passing his oiled chest and reaching for his trousers.

____

He pulled back from her. “That’s… Don’t.”

____

She stopped and looked up at where he held himself over her. “Don’t?”

____

He sucked in air, ribs shaking. “This was for you.” 

____

He sat up, feeling his cock aching to bounce against his stomach through the trousers. He looked to the clock in the corner of the room. It was half-past eleven. He still needed to gather his books before lunch.

____

“Draco—“

____

He summoned her pink fluffy robe. “Half hour until lunch. Take all the time you need.” He climbed off the table, and held the robe open for her. She watched him curiously as she shifted off the table into the robe.

____

When she was changing behind the curtain in the corner, he slipped out, had a thoroughly unsatisfying wank in the closet at the end of the hall, and headed down to the dungeons for his books, passing Slytherins on the way to lunch. He took a cold shower, and traveled up to the Great Hall just in time to grab an apple and a few bites of this and that before heading to his afternoon classes.

____

Afternoon classes that he shared with her. Her, who kept looking over at him when she thought he didn’t notice, but he was realizing that he noticed everything with her.

____

His dinner time poem to her painted a lovely sensual portrait of Helen of Troy. It was very detailed and almost four pages long. His hand had cramped twice last night while copying it. 

____

When she was immersed in page two, he excused himself, ready to take a long dip in the Prefects’ Bath, and try to slow his racing libido.

____

Draco wound his way through the Entrance Hall, distracted, looking at the stone floor, thinking of ways he could have Granger before her monthly was done, what else they could do, when he was grabbed by the back of his collar, and dragged to the left.

____

He tripped into a broom closet – _his_ broom closet, actually – and before he could even decide if he was being attacked, Granger’s mouth was on his, closing the door behind him, and pressing him against it.

____

“Mmph!” against her mouth as she tugged his neck to bend to her. 

____

Her hands grazed down his robes, pushing them off his shoulders to the floor, and moving down his chest.

____

“You liked the new poem?” he joked.

____

She grinned up at him. Then dropped to her knees.

____

His mind went white.

____

“What are you doing?” he gasped, reaching for her shoulders. 

____

She batted his hands away and grabbed his buckle. 

____

“This is for you,” she said, throwing his words back at him from earlier today.

____

He should stop her. Tell her that _The Art of the Sensual Massage_ would disagree with this. That massages aren’t about a one-for-one or owing favors –

____

She had him unbuttoned and was pulling him out of his trunks already. He had been hard since the moment she dropped to her knees.

____

– should pull her up, and kiss her, and try his hands down her knickers again while she stroked him – 

____

She looked up at him in the low light of the closet, hand wrapping around his cock and tongue peeking between her lips.

____

– and tell her his plans for Phase Two, like poetry and prose and fantasies, and getting her to lose her grip on her control –

____

She took him in her mouth, wide eyes blinking up at him. 

____

He leaned back against the door, letting her tongue slide against his shaft and watching her lips take him. He let his hand move against her face, tucking a curl behind her ear. He closed his eyes.

____

Fuck.

____

He wanted to keep her.

____

He was so fucked.

____


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has become common knowledge that Hermione Granger cannot have an orgasm. Many have tried, none have succeeded. Can Draco Malfoy offer his assistance? // 8th Year AU - WIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate everyone's patience and support!
> 
> A little fun news: This story and my others have been nominated at the Beyond the Book Fanfiction Nook Summer Awards! Check them out on Facebook and take a look at all of the amazing stories nominated. Every Day, a Little Death has been nominated for Favorite Erotic, and I have been nominated for Favorite Author! Voting closes November 11. Here is the link to vote: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSf9h-zaH8sTTErFV0GU_R1bCLNUDW-HszRzcuHJ7Ikk3lCZbA/viewform
> 
> Enjoy!

"What is a cock ring? And should we use one?"

Granger spit her tea all over her breakfast, eyes wide and watering.

"Wh-what?" She turned to him, coughing.

"A cock ring?" Draco supplied. "Have you heard of them?"

"Yes, I've heard of them," she hissed, looking up and down the breakfast table. It was Tuesday morning, and the anxious first years were already heading to class. "It's... It's a..." The shade of pink blooming across her cheekbones made Draco's blood pound. "I believe it is worn around the base of the penis, inhibiting blood flow."

"Have you ever used one?"

"Have _I_ ever used one?"

"Er, the person you were with?"

"No, not that I'm aware of." She started cleaning up the mess she'd made when she jumped, patting the puddle of tea and jam. Why did she bother? The tables cleaned themselves. "Why do you ask?"

"I ordered one. I'm investing in a few toys, Muggle and magical, that will hopefully aid in our experiments," he said, capping her ink pot for her and helping her pack up.

"Those... er, cock rings, that is to say," - she blushed again - "are meant to help men. No added stimulation for the woman... except maybe the rare design..." She glanced at him, as her hands closed her books, and tucked away her parchments. "I mean, feel free to try something new, but I don't see how they'd help in our... experiments."

She stood and he gathered her books from the table for her while she straightened her uniform.

"But one of our major issues is finding a way for me to outlast you." He tucked the books under his arm and swung his legs over the bench. "A cock ring might be just the thing."

Her eye twitched as several fourth years passed. She turned back to him. "'Major issues?' I wouldn't call that one of our major issues," she scoffed.

Draco froze, skin tightening. Had she been so dissatisfied? "What issues do you think we have?"

She looked up from where he had her books tucked under his arm, pinning him with an incredulous look. "The major issue is that I'm incapable of orgasm," she deadpanned, and reached her hand out for her books.

The many, many things he worried she'd say, like dissatisfaction with his size or shape, or that he simply still wasn't Ron Weasley after all these weeks, evaporated with a sigh.

"Incapable?" He waved the air with his hand, and turned to lead her out of the Great Hall. "That's not the issue at all."

The clip-clap of her feet following behind him. "It's not?" She chuckled. "I must have missed the whole point of these experiments."

"I just need to find a way to last longer, take you through the wave." He turned to walk backwards, facing her. "You've been so close. Maybe we just need to take our time a bit more. So, when you're ready to start up again—"

"I'm ready."

He almost tripped on the stairs, righting himself at the last second. "You are?"

"I... Yes, I'm finished with... Yes."

She stared up at him as his mind ran through all the things he had been aching to do to her since Friday. That blush spreading across her jaw...

"I have class now though," she mumbled.

He jumped. "Yes, of course." He turned to lead her up the stairs towards her class. "Tonight? Maybe?"

"I promised Ginny we'd spend some time together tonight..." She blinked up at him as she climbed. The stairs were empty. He was going to be late to Potions if he walked her all the way to the third floor, but he didn't care.

"Alright," he said. "Tomorrow then. I'll make a plan. I should have a few supplies by then." He was expecting a package tomorrow at breakfast.

"Supplies?" Her eyes narrowed at him.

"Yes, just a few things I sent away for over the weekend." His eyes on the stones in front of his feet. He wondered how soon the Muggle shop could deliver that cock ring. He would have to coordinate with Borgin.

They turned a corner and the stragglers from her class were just running in.

"Right," he said. "Here's your poem." He pulled a letter out of his robes. "Couldn't get it to the owlery before breakfast."

"Oh. Thank you." She batted her lashes and took it from him, looking over his shoulder for spies, like the letter contained top secret information. Her fingers played with the wax seal, and he had a thought.

Banishing any nerves, he looked over his shoulder, finding the hallway empty. He turned back to her and stepped closer. Books still tucked under one arm, his other hand pressed against the wall near her head. She looked up at him with wide eyes, confused.

"I want you to read that poem in class, Granger," he said, voice low. She blinked. "I want you to peel back that seal, and while Flitwick is talking about Cheering Charms or some drivel, I want you to think of me. Imagine my hands on your thighs."

She took a shaky breath.

"Imagine if I didn't go to class right now, and if right here, in the corridor, I push your skirt up and dip into your knickers. If I stroke you until you squirm for me."

She bit her lip and looked away from him, towards her classroom.

"Think of me this morning, hand-writing that poem for you, with my left hand wrapped around my cock, thinking of your mouth again. I want you to search the parchment, see if you can find the places where I had to wipe my come off it before sealing it and running to breakfast."

With her head leaned back on the wall, and her eyes fluttering closed, he almost kissed her. Here in public, with nobody watching.

He pressed away from the wall, missing her warmth already, and smirked down at her when she opened her eyes. Holding out her books, he said, "Have a good day, Granger."

She took the books with twitching fingers. "Thank you." Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. "Where's your class?"

He cleared his head. "Uh, Potions. Dungeons."

Her lips parted. She was about to say something about him being late to class. About him taking the time to turn her on outside of Charms class, and carry her books and write her a poem.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, quickly. "Or, er... at lunch today." He frowned. "And dinner..." He looked away from her, feeling his cheeks heat. "Yes, bye."

He started down the stairs, wondering if he could run away without looking like he was running away.

~*~

He got through his morning classes, got through lunch, got through his afternoon classes. All without stopping to relieve some of his tension in his broom cupboard. When she walked into the Great Hall for dinner, found his eyes, and blushed, he grabbed a roll of bread and headed back to the dormitories.

He took a cold shower, trying to keep his own promise of only touching himself once that day. When he toweled off and returned to his bed, a small envelope rested on his pillow.

_Draco_

He looked around the dorm, trying to locate the sender. He flipped it over, ripped at the opening, and pulled out a small card.

_west corridor of the dungeons_

_third classroom on the right_

_6:45PM_

Her neat scrawl wasn't signed. Draco checked his timepiece. 6:39PM.

He ripped off his towel, tugged on his trousers and tossed on a sweater before running out, hair still wet. Several Slytherins were just coming back from dinner, and he passed them in his hurry out.

The third classroom on the right was an unused room that Slytherins absolutely all used for trysts. He wondered if she knew.

But she'd also said she was busy tonight. His jog slowed. What if something was wrong?

He stopped at the end of the west corridor.

What if there was a problem? What if she could see right through him? The poems, late to class, carrying her books without realizing...

Draco took a deep breath. 6:44PM.

He opened the door slowly, head peeking around the corner. She stood in the middle of the room, jumping when the door squeaked. Her fingers played with her scarf ends, and her eyes flickered around the room.

"Sorry," she said. "When you left dinner I assumed you were free, but maybe you were headed somewhere..." She trailed off.

"No, no." He closed the door behind himself. "Just had a shower." Her eyes took in his wet hair, and he felt a bit self-conscious about it. He ran his fingers through it, ruffling, wondering what kind of a drowned rat he looked like. "Is everything... What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" She asked. She blinked a few times. "Nothing's wrong. Um..."

He relaxed. "I thought you were spending time with the ginger after dinner."

"I-I am. I told her 7:30. Said I had to go to the library."

His blood heated. "Are you... Would you like to—?"

"Er, yes if that's... I mean, we don't have to—"

"No, no. Only if you have time. I'd hate to—"

"Time. Yes. If you weren't busy?"

"Not busy."

She nodded. He stared at her.

He didn't have a plan. He didn't have toys, or a scenario, or a massage table.

She bit the inside of her cheek. He ran his hand through his hair again. Her eyes caught on the wet strands.

He stepped toward her. "Is there anything specific you want to try?"

"Er... No. Nothing coming to mind." She watched him as he walked toward her. "You?"

He stopped, blinking. "Me?"

"Yes, anything you want to try?"

In the two seconds of pause, the absolute filthiest span of images flickered through his mind. He swallowed. "Nope."

She nodded, and looked around the room. No bed, no couches. Desks in a corner. She moved slowly towards the far side of the room to the blank dusty wall. He followed, casting a locking charm on the door.

He waited for her to conjure something. A bed, comfy chair, even a rocking horse. She turned and faced him, leaning back on the wall.

"Where were we?" she said quietly, a small smile.

From that morning. Against the wall outside of Charms. He stepped into her.

"Did you read the poem?"

"Yes," she breathed.

"During class?" He placed his hand on the wall beside her head.

"Yes. Just as you instructed." Her brow quirked. And he quickly realized that, yes, there was something specific he wanted to do tonight. But he didn't have any of the items he'd bought, and they hadn't talked boundaries, and he hadn't even decided if he wanted to be addressed as Sir or Daddy.

He placed his other hand on her hip, and leaned in, brushing his lips across her jaw.

"And how did you like it? Did it turn you on, Granger?"

He felt her chest expand against him. "Yes."

He smiled into her neck. He remembered she only had forty-five minutes or so before she needed to get back upstairs to Ginny Weasley, so he slipped his hand beneath her skirt like he promised and started a slow pattern across the lace of her knickers.

"Did you really wank while writing it out?" she breathed into his ear.

"Yes. Imagining you reading it."

She sighed against him.

"Imagining you shifting your hips in the middle of class or the breakfast table," he continued.

Her hips shifted, probably on accident. His fingers dipped underneath, running through her, ignoring her clit and moving inside. He'd missed her heat.

"Do you have any favorites, Granger?" he whispered. "Any writers or poets who stimulate you?"

He kept his fingers sliding shallowly, enjoying her tightness. Her hands came up to his elbows.

"I... Not really," she said. "I guess there're some verses... I don't know."

He pulled back to look at her blushing. "Oh, do tell," he teased.

"It's nothing. I don't even remember the lines." She shook her head, and leaned back against the wall, tilting her head back.

He pulled his fingers from her and she huffed. "Granger."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. The first poem you sent me. It reminded me a bit of a sonnet by Shakespeare, that's all. It's one I like."

"Shakespeare," he repeated.

She looked at him. "Yes. He was a Muggle poet and playwright—"

"I know who Shakespeare was, Granger." His turn to roll his eyes. "And he was no Muggle."

She glared at him. "Those are only rumors, Draco. Don't erase Muggle history just because pure-bloods can't accept that he was as great as he was without magic."

Her eyes were on fire. He dipped his fingers back inside of her. Her lips twitched, but she continued to stare him down.

"So, you like the Squib Shakespeare, do you?"

"He was not a Squib," she hissed. He pressed deeper inside.

"He was either a Squib or a Muggle published for him. Those signatures, Granger—"

"There's nothing that proves that argument. Muggles have their own theories about who he really was. He doesn't have to be magical."

He flipped his thumb up to flick at her clit. "He doesn't have to be Muggle either," he countered. She squeezed his arms. "Which sonnet?"

"Never mind," she grit out. "Forget I said anything about the greatest Muggle writer that ever lived."

"So, you're a big Shakespeare fan." He smiled down at her. She closed her eyes.

"Just shut up and touch me."

He laughed and leaned in to her ear. "Which sonnet, Granger?" The skin near her ear broke out in shivers.

He heard her breath catch. "But it's not... I mean it's not really a sexy poem. It's just one I thought was... I don't know."

He stopped his rhythm on her clit. She groaned.

"'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?'" Draco smiled down on her.

"Not that one," she sighed. "Don't laugh at me, or I'll never tell you."

He tugged her knickers down, unbuttoned his trousers, and hooked his hands beneath her arms. She gasped and moved to hold onto his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his waist. He pressed her into the wall, meeting her lips and wrapping one arm around her back. She moaned into his mouth as he pushed his hips against hers.

"What about 'Love is not love when it... alters' or something," he whispered into her.

"'Which alters when it alteration finds,'" she corrected him, scratching down his back.

"That one?" He brought his hand down to her again, spinning circles around her clit, listening to the noises coming from her mouth, feeling her swallow his breath.

"No, not that one." She dragged her hands through his hair.

"Which one, Granger?" He pushed his fingers into her again, two of them opening her, dragging along the sides of her. "Tell me what turns you on."

"Draco," she hummed into his mouth. "Please, now."

"Mm. What about 'When my love tells me she loves me...' er... 'I do believe her, though I know she lies.'"

He replaced his fingers with his cock, positioning himself and waiting.

"God, you know a lot of Shakespeare," she hissed, rolling her hips to entice him to push in.

"Of course," he chuckled. "He's my favorite half-blood poet."

"Shut up." She pulled his face to hers, kissing him quiet.

Forgetting their little game all together, he pushed into her. She groaned, and he held his breath. Merlin, he didn't know how much he missed this. Hadn't been inside of her since Friday. Barely four days and he was going to pop.

"Draco. Move. Please."

Not now, you bint.

He gripped her hip and rolled his body into her. She breathed into his mouth, then started sucking at his skin. His jaw to his neck.

"Faster" into his ear. He pressed his eyes closed. He needed that cock ring. And possibly a whole slew of potions.

He couldn't go faster. Could barely move. Her muscles squeezing him from the struggle to hold herself up. Fluttering around him. "Draco."

He pressed his mouth against her shoulder and focused on how cold the classroom was. The flavor of dust in his mouth. He pushed into her, hips slamming against her. No rhythm. Just a depth she liked.

"Oh, god!" She tugged at his head, pulling him to her mouth again.

This was awful. He hated this. Hated sex with her. Her skin was too tight. Her hair smelled too floral. Her arms too close around him. Her breathing was too hot in his mouth. Her tongue was too smooth.

He was cold. His thighs hurt.

"Yes, please," she pressed into his mouth.

This was awful. Her hipbones crunched against his and his fingers were cramping against her hips.

"Draco, more!"

He stopped, feeling the pressure low in his hips. He sucked in a thick breath.

"What? What's wrong?" she whined.

"You're too perfect," he moaned, clenching his eyes closed. A hollow laugh next to his ear.

"What?"

He pulled out of her and she whimpered. He pulled her legs from around him, dropping her feet to the floor. His fingers dipped back inside of her, starting a quick pace. She gasped. He opened his eyes and watched her face tighten, her eyes roll back. He gave her back the rhythm she wanted, quick, and hard, and more.

He pushed his tongue into her mouth, swallowing her. The heel of his hand slapping against her clit as he hammered into her.

"Oh, my god." She moaned against his lips. "Please!"

Her hand reached down and gripped him.

"No! Merlin, Granger." She tightened her fingers, flicking her wrist.

"Please, Draco, come back."

He dropped his head to her shoulder, trying to move his fingers inside her again. She found a quick rhythm on his cock that had him stopping.

"I'm gonna come," he whined. "Please stop."

She removed her hand, and jumped up until she was back in position with her legs wrapped around him. He took a few deep breaths as she guided him back inside.

"I thought about you in Charms class today," she whispered, rolling her hips. "About your hands on my thighs like you said."

That was all it took. He gripped her hips with both hands, fingers wrapping underneath to hold her up, and pounded her into the wall.

She laughed and moaned and wrapped herself around him and he fucked her until he came.

She shook as she moved off him. And kissed him deeply.

He caught his breath and kissed her back.

She pulled away. "I have to go."

He opened his eyes, and she was flushed and sweating. "Okay."

"Tomorrow night?" She pulled her knickers back on.

"Yes." He felt like he couldn't move.

"What do you have planned?" she smiled up at him, her fingers still shaking.

"I..." He cleared his throat, watching her use her wand to banish his come sliding down her thighs. "I was actually wondering how you would feel about dominance and submission."

She looked up at him, some little spark in her eyes. She swallowed.

"Yeah, okay."

"Yeah?" He thought about starting now. Telling her she wasn't allowed to touch herself without him present. Telling her not to wear knickers tomorrow.

He blinked the thoughts away.

"We should— We should have rules, or limits, I guess."

"Er... Maybe we could start slow?" she said. "Work up to hard limits and those things?" She tossed her hair up into a ponytail. "Do you have... Have you done a lot of BDSM?"

"I've..." He considered outright lying, but landed on bending the truth. "I've done a bit, but I'd be interested to hear your preferences."

"Why don't we keep it basic tomorrow, and then think about our hard limits this week." She shrugged, smiling. "Then try something more this weekend."

Her hands were still shaking. He tore his eyes from them.

"Yes. Fine. Good," he stammered. "'Basic' meaning...?"

"Light bondage? Maybe blindfolds?" She straightened the buttons on her blouse. Merlin, they'd been quick. He hadn't even taken it off of her. "So, Room of Requirement tomorrow night? After dinner?"

"Yes. Er, yes." He stumbled a bit. "I may have a few items delivered tomorrow that we can... explore."

"Items? Are these your 'supplies?'" Her eyes were very deep. And it struck him that she was still incredibly turned on.

"Yes," he said. "Just a few things. Er, what time are you meeting the Weasley girl?"

She turned her wrist over and checked her watch. "About five minutes ago." She shrugged.

"So, you're already late."

He stepped into her, and guided her hips back to a broken desk. Her eyes widened when he dropped to his knees, and dragged her knickers back down her thighs.

~*~

When they separated, he headed to the library, intent on finding a collection of Shakespeare's sonnets. And if he happened to run across a few texts detailing the proof Shakespeare's magical blood, he might just have to write up a little report for her.

At around three in the morning, he had it narrowed down to three sonnets, and he had an excellent feeling about one of them.

On Wednesday morning, just as his shipment of "supplies" arrived, a small dark owl swooped low to the Gryffindor table and dropped an envelope in front of her. She blinked at it, and then looked up at him.

He raised a brow. She ripped the wax seal, and he watched her read the eight words he'd scrawled in the early hours of that morning.

_My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun._

Her lips parted, and her chest jumped. Her eyes flipped to him. He toasted her with his morning tea, and then took his box of toys down to the dungeons before joining the rest of his classmates in Transfiguration.

After lunch, he had all afternoon to prepare. He tried on the cock ring and sized it properly. He hid the more intense toys and remedies at the bottom of his trunk for future use, and grabbed the cock ring, the handcuffs, and the vibrator, heading to the Room of Requirement a few hours early.

Blaise stopped him on his way out, and Draco tucked away his treasurers.

"Haven't seen you much, Draco." He looked up from his chair in the common room. "Been keeping busy?"

His tone was a clear innuendo. Draco frowned.

"Very." He tried continuing out.

"You should know that Finnigan is going to make a move on Granger."

Draco stopped. Blaise flipped a page.

"Finnigan?" He _knew_ that fucking Irish prat was up to something.

"Mm-hmm. Oh, but wait." Blaise looked up from his book, a serenely innocent expression across his features. "You two still aren't exclusive, right?" Blaise looked away. "My bad. I guess that means you don't really care one way or another."

He blinked at Blaise. He'd already gone back to his book, dismissing him. "We don't have to be dating for me to want to keep my quill out of the same well as the leprechaun."

"An insult to leprechauns everywhere," Blaise hummed as Draco stomped out.

He got to the Room of Requirement and requested it provide him with a four-poster bed and the precise lighting. He laid out his new supplies on a side table. He figured they could improvise with a few things should they want to go further. But he'd really love to use that spreader bar at the bottom of his trunk eventually...

He took in the bed, feeling his skin tingling with the anticipation of seeing her laid out, arms above her head. Maybe he'd gag her with her knickers so he didn't have to listen to "God, Draco! More, please!"

He spent the next half hour experimenting with the cock ring. It took him fifteen minutes to come, and the finale spun his head around. Whether it helped their situation or not, clearly he made the right choice.

He skipped dinner, preferring to hold onto the Room of Requirement and his set up. When she arrived a little before dinner ended, he jumped up off the couch.

"How did you guess?"

He resisted the urge to kiss her hello. "Guess?"

"The poem."

"Oh," he said, waving his hand. "I narrowed it down. Found the one that wasn't really sexy, but could still be a bit of a turn on."

She nodded, pink on her cheeks, and he saw her look to the bed and then to the table where he'd laid out the handcuffs.

"Do you feel comfortable?" he asked.

She glanced at him. "Mm-hmm." She shrugged off her top layer of clothes. "Do you?"

He nodded, and sauntered over to her. "If either one of us wants to stop..."

"Red and yellow work pretty well," she suggested, giving him the impression again that she had far more experience in this than him. She cocked her head toward the side table with the handcuffs, cock ring, and vibrator. "What do you have going on over there?"

He stepped closer to her, feeling her body heat through his clothes. "Nothing to worry yourself with just yet." He kissed her temple, crowding her personal space with his chest. He leaned down to her ear and whispered, "Strip. And get on the bed."

His first command over her. He felt it go straight to his cock. He walked away from her, trying to decide if he wanted to use the vibrator before or after the handcuffs—

"Uh..." she said. "Why don't _you_ strip and get on the bed."

Draco paused. He turned from where he stood near the table. He blinked at her. "What?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You do know that I am the Dom, right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lolz. Also this chapter is dedicated to the late great Alan Rickman and his recording of My Mistress' Eyes. Just google it. A sexual awakening awaits you.


	8. Chapter 8

"You do know that I am the Dom, right?"

He waited for her to laugh, and tell him she was joking, and begin to take her clothes off.

It didn't happen.

"No... I'm the Dom," he tried.

Now she laughed. "What makes you think you're the Dom?" Gleeful eyes ran over his body. "You're a Switch, at best."

He didn't know what that meant, but it didn't sound good.

"I don't understand." He looked away from her, taking a step back. "So, when I asked you yesterday if you wanted to do some Dominance and Submission, you truly believed that I was the submissive?"

"No," she smiled. "I truly believed it was new ground to develop, and that we'd have a healthy conversation about it. Not that you would demand I 'strip and get on the bed.'"

"That's not... I mean, I was just getting in the spirit of things-"

"So, you would ask me to submit to  _you_ , someone who's  _clearly_  never done BDSM before, but you wouldn't submit to me, someone who has?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest. She smirked at him.

He felt the heat spread to his neck. She saw right through him. "I... I mean..."

"Okay," she said. She stepped forward to him. "You wanted to talk limits? Is me being the Dom completely off the table for you?"

An image of her in black leather and lace spun in front of his eyes. He swallowed. "No. I guess not. I just didn't plan for it."

She smiled up at him, stepping forward again and making him move back. "Always planning. So controlled, Draco."

His back hit the bedpost. "Yes, which is why I had thought that I would do best in the Dominant role." Her hands drifted up to his chest and ran a pattern down his stomach.

"Actually, it's why you might  _need_  the submission." Her fingers found his belt buckle, and started tugging. "I can give you what you need, Draco." Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips.

He knew his jaw was open but he couldn't find the brain function to close it. Her hand brushed against his cock through his trousers, and he jumped.

"But— but," he pleaded. "I'm supposed to be giving you what  _you_  need!"

"Maybe this is what I need," she whispered into his neck. She licked a path from his ear to his collarbone as her fingers finished with the last of his buttons.

"That doesn't... This - this," he stammered. She dipped into his trousers and pulled him out, running her thumb across his head. "Hey!" He pushed her off of him, stepping to the side and out of her reach. "Where's our healthy conversation!?" he shrieked her words back at her.

She covered her smile with her hand. "Alright," she said. "What do you want to talk about?"

He tucked himself back in his trunks, and ran a hand through his hair. He turned around and caught his breath, then spun to her. He pointed a finger at her.

" _You_  need to orgasm. Not me!"

"I don't see how those two things are mutually exclusive," she shrugged, and he could feel the superiority rolling off of her. Just because she'd successfully tied someone up before. Well, la-dee-fucking-dah.

"We need to get you out of your head, Granger." He cracked his neck. "I thought that submission, and letting you have a chance to lose control for bit might be a good tactic."

"Yes," she said. "I'd agree with that."

"You would?" He narrowed his eyes at her. She was spinning his head around today.

"But that doesn't mean you'd make a good Dom, Draco." She said it gently. Like it may hurt him. Well, fuck that.

"What makes you think I'd be a good Submissive?!" He threw his hands out wide.

"You already do everything I say in bed," she replied simply.

He stared at her. "What?!"

She stepped toward him and lowered her voice into a familiar breathy place. "' _Draco, please. More. Faster, Draco_.'"

He scowled at her. "Well... that's just polite."

She came to stand in front of him again, and he was aware that his trousers still hung open. "The basics of Dominance and Submission aren't about control. They're about pleasure." She pressed her body against his, her breasts pushing into his chest and her hands resting on his hipbones. "It would please me to dominate you, Draco."

He shivered.

Her eyes were dark as she stepped away and said, "But if you're uncomfortable with it, we can try something else."

He bit his lip and looked over at his small assortment of toys for the night. "Will you let me be the Dom one day?" he pouted.

"Yes," she said. "But only if you're very good."

His eyes flipped back to her, and she was smirking at him. A jolt of anticipation tumbled through his veins.

"What do I do?" He didn't like this. He didn't like not knowing what was coming next.

She stepped into him, onto her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the mouth. Then against his cheek she whispered, "Strip. And get on the bed."

He swallowed. He pulled at his school shirt, fumbling with the buttons. And suddenly a memory—

He pointed at her. "No strap ons!"

She blinked, breath choking in a laugh. "What?"

"You said you'd done it before. That's gonna be a hard limit for me."

Her lips curled in a smile. "I was thinking we'd stick to some light restraints tonight."

"Okay, but just... stay away from my bum."

She pressed her lips together, her eyes laughing at him. "Got it."

Once he judged that she heard him, he shrugged his shirt off, and peeled his trousers off his hips. Socks and trunks last, and then he sat on the end of the bed. He knew his cheeks were bright red.

"All the way back," she instructed.

He scooted back, desperate to not turn around and crawl after that conversation about his bum. He laid back and just concentrated on staring at the ceiling. He heard her move toward the toys.

"Oh," he said, "my cockring is over there."

"Yes, I see." A smile in her voice.

What he meant was, hey toss me that cockring before I get hard. But apparently, that's not what she heard. He rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling until he heard a buzzing.

He looked up and she had turned on the vibrator.

"This is a good one," she said. "Where did you get it?"

"I coordinated with a Muggle sex shop and had it sent to Borgin and Burkes. He owled it all in today."

She hummed, turning it off and grabbing up the handcuffs. She turned to him. "Hands above your head."

Well, this was it. The most humiliating moment of his life. He sucked in a deep breath and stretched his arms up. Granger climbed onto the bed, flipped her leg over his waist to straddle him, and began locking one cuff around his left arm, then slipping the chain through a peg in the headboard, and pulling his other wrist up. Once the metallic click echoed, he closed his eyes, and just waited for it to begin.

Her soft lips.

On his cheek, his chin, his mouth.

He opened his eyes as she pressed her tongue into his mouth. The metal at his wrists pricked at him. He wanted to touch her.

She pressed wet kisses against his jaw, his neck, down his chest. She swiped her tongue across his nipple and he arched, cuffs clinking together. He pressed his eyes closed and she repeated with the other one.

She used her teeth on his ribs, skating down and down, and it was too late when his mind caught up to what she was doing.

"Granger, wait," he gasped. "The cockring. Before I'm hard."

She looked up from where she was sucking a bruise against his hipbone. "Just lay back, Draco. Be good for me."

He stared down at her. Throwing his head back on the mattress, he huffed up to the ceiling. What was the point of buying new toys to play with if she didn't let him try anything? If she was really going to suck him off first, he'd come too quick.

She slithered down his body, kneeling between his legs, running her hands across his thighs. He closed his eyes and tried not to be angry with her.

He heard the flop of her shoes hitting the floor beside the bed, followed by the shuffling of clothing. Taking a peek, Draco found that she was in a silky red bra and matching knickers. And black stockings that came up to mid-thigh. He hadn't noticed them before. But of course. She had prepared to be the Dom.

She slid her fingers around his cock as he looked down the bed at her, twisting her wrist as she pumped him. He watched as she shimmied down the bed, flipping her hair over one shoulder and descended on his cock.

This... was awful. He gasped when her hot tongue lapped at him. His hips stuttered, and his chest seized its breath. But he couldn't grab her. Couldn't push her hair aside or twist his fingers through it.

He was going to have marks on his wrists from the cuffs, even with the cushioning charm he'd been so kind as to place on the metal when he thought she would be the one wearing them.

She dipped her head and took him in her mouth again, and he watched himself disappear inch by inch. She sucked him up, tongue swirling around the tip of him before diving back down. She looked up at him through her lashes.

"Fuck," he rasped.

Her fingers splayed out across the tops of his thighs, pushing lightly to keep his hips from jumping against her, and one hand slipped down and brushed against his balls, massaging them. He pulled his lip between his teeth and focused on the ceiling. Focused on feeling her.

Licking him, sucking him, kissing him. She took her time. He swallowed when she pulled him deep into her mouth. He choked when she pushed her tongue against his slit. He groaned when she spread her hands across his stomach.

"You're being so good, Draco," she rasped against his cock. He snapped his eyes open and looked down at her. She had her hand fisting him, moving quickly, slick with her spit. Flipping her hair, she sat up tall and looked at him. "I should reward you."

"Yes," slipped from his teeth before he could censor himself. He pulled at the cuffs.

"You have to say thank you." She bit her lip and dipped back down to swallow him.

"Unhh, thank you," he moaned, tossing his head back.

She sucked him down, and he knew he was close. She hummed around him, and his thighs clenched. She pushed her hands against his hips as he tried to thrust up into her.

"Granger, I'm close. Stop now."

She bobbed her head faster, her tongue twisting deliciously against him.

His hands fisted, wanting to pull at her.

"You have to stop or else I won't—" A swift pinch against his thigh. "OW!"

He looked down at her, and she popped her mouth off him to say, "Who's in charge here, Draco?"

"If you'd used the damn cockring, then maybe—!"

She reached up and connected her hand against his cheek in a soft slap. He looked at her with wide eyes as she grabbed his jaw in a firm grip. "Unless this is a Yellow or Red situation, I'd advise you to shut your mouth."

His cock jumped in her hand. A slow smile spread on her face. His heart ricocheted in his chest as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "You don't want me to punish you, do you Draco? You were being such a good boy." She pumped him in her fist. "Can you be good for me?"

"Yes, thank you," he hissed.

She pulled his ear between her teeth and sucked, letting her hand move lazily on his cock, and pressing her chest against his. He felt the smooth cups of her bra sweeping across him as she twisted her body. She moved until she was centered over him, her hips sliding against his cock and the silk of her knickers brushing over him. Pulling her teeth away from his earlobe, she attached her mouth to his neck, running her hands along his stretched arms, rounding his elbows and over the cuffs to finally grip his fingers with her own.

Her hips sunk lower on him, pressing the silk between them and hugging his cock with the warmth he could feel from her.

"Thank you," slipped out of him. He squeezed her fingers in his and she rolled her hips in such sinful movements, he could feel all of her.

"You're so good, Draco," she hummed into his shoulder, twisting her head towards his arm and letting her curls fall onto his face. "So good for me."

Moving her hips faster, never disconnecting the silk from his cock, she bit down on his bicep lightly.

He sucked in air and found the soft scent of her hair around him, suffocating him. He blamed the lack of air to his brain for the next words out of his mouth.

"I want to be good for you. Thank you."

She pulled her hands from his, and his arms strained to chase her. She connected their mouths, holding his face between her hands and pumping her hips wildly against his.

Fuck he wasn't even inside of her yet and he was going to—

He moaned obscenities into her mouth and she swallowed them. His hips stretched up, aching to sink into her, and the smooth wet silk held him.

Her tongue mimicked his hips, digging into his mouth until he'd shot himself across his stomach with a groan.

She let him drag in needy breaths, moving to his neck as she continued her hips against him, searching for herself. He hissed after a minute, feeling the ache of sensitivity, but wanting her to chase it, to find a way to give it to herself. She heard him and lifted her mouth from his neck, lifting her hips from his.

He stared up at her with glazed eyes as her hair fell around her face, and he wanted his arms, needed to push her curls away.

And it all smacked into him, through the glow. He'd come too soon. Again. And she'd let him. What kind of plan was this? How was this supposed to help?

"What do you say, Draco?" he grinned down at him.

 _Fuck off_ , he wanted to say.  _Did you clock it this time?_

"Thank you," he muttered, looking to the side. "The key is on the table over there, too."

"Did I say we were done?"

He looked up at her, and furrowed his brow. "What?"

"I have to clean you up," she said, smirking down at him. She pulled herself up tall, straddling his spent cock, her long torso stretching up to her miraculous tits hidden behind the red silk. Her hair was a monstrosity, but also looked absolutely perfect. She flipped her curls behind her shoulder and he wished she had ridden him like this. This lighting, this bed. It was all perfect.

In fact, had she ever ridden him?

He was racking his brain for a memory when she slipped one leg over him, dismounting.

He took a deep breath, preparing for her to conjure a wet cloth and having to lie still while she cleaned him like a dirty child.

He wondered what a Switch was. He thought he'd like that more.

She knelt beside him, tossed her hair up into a flimsy knot, and descended on his chest, her tongue flicking out to lick up a drop of his spend. His eyes took her in as she kissed his nipple, a grin flashing his way.

She wasn't going to... Was she?

She moved lower, finding the next drop. She kissed every spot she cleaned, sometimes sucking the skin into her mouth and dragging her teeth across it. She was halfway down his stomach, swallowing every last drop of him, pulling his flesh into her mouth.

The pathway had turned her body away from him, but her hips and knees were still level with his chest. He took in the sight of the red knickers disappearing between her perfect cheeks, the dark places where she had rubbed herself wet on him. One of her black stockings had rolled down past her knee, and he wanted so badly to set it right for her.

Her tongue dipped into his bellybutton and his hands jumped in the cuffs, pulling tight against the bedpost. He heard her chuckle darkly.

"Almost clean, Draco," she said, her voice thick. She turned to look up his body at him, and he saw her push her hips out just a little further. "Do you have anything to say?"

"Thank you." Without hesitation. He breathed deep.

She grinned at him, and reached toward the bottom of the bed, pulling forth the cockring.

When did she—?

"Good boys get toys," she whispered. And he felt the blood rushing back into his groin. "Do you still want to be good for me, Draco?"

She held up the ring, the silicone shining in the lamplight.

"Yes," he said.

She smirked at him, bringing the cockring to her lips, letting her tongue flick out. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, I want to be good for you."

She smiled.

This was insane. Where were these words of his coming from? How did she know what to say to him?

She stretched her mouth open, and pushed the cockring between her lips, holding it wide. She winked at him - winked at him! - and bent forward, grabbing the base of his cock and sliding her hand up and down a few times before pushing her mouth on him, bringing the cockring onto the tip, and then sliding her mouth down, down, down.

"Oh fuck," he whispered into the air, throwing his head back, as she adjusted the ring on him.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes. Yes, thank you."

She licked up the side of him, dipping her tongue against the slit at the top. She started from the bottom again, licking another side.

Cleaning him.

"So good for me, Draco," she hummed against his balls as she swiped her tongue between them. He could feel her silky tits against his hipbone. "How good can you be?"

"So good. Very good." He mumbled, hardly knowing what he was saying any more.

"Very good?"

"Yes. I can be very good."

"I don't know if you can..." She slid his half-hard cock between her lips and sucked.

"Yes! Please let me show you."

She pulled her mouth off of him, threw him a saucy look, and twisted to throw her leg over him, scooting back to present him with her red silk-clad heat.

He set to work immediately. Metal clanked against the wood headboard as his arms squeezed to wrap around her. He groaned against her knickers as she lowered her hips to him. He kissed the silk. Licked the skin available to him. He focused on the damp spot and moved his mouth under her.

He felt her fist his cock, licking up one side.

Oh, this was heaven.

He tongued at her, and eventually moved her knickers to the side with some very skilled work from his tongue and teeth. She moaned when he tasted her. He worked quick strokes on the flesh available to him, pushing into her, lapping at her wetness, and she paused on his cock. He could feel her breath heavy on his hipbone.

"Oh, god," she moaned.

His hips jumped and his hands tugged at the same time, and one of those things stirred her back into action. She took him deep in her mouth, her tongue pressing tightly on him. Her hands moved over his hips, rubbing circles and smoothing the skin there until she slipped his balls into her palm and ran her thumb over them.

He gasped against her, and pushed his tongue inside as deep as he could go. She moaned and rolled her hips on him.

"Yes, you're so good. Oh, god, Draco."

He didn't care that he could barely breathe. He didn't care that his wrists were chapped and probably soon to bleed from the way he tugged. He just didn't want her to stop.

She pumped him with her fist, quick and firm. He could hear her gasping, her other hand squeezing her nails into his thigh.

"Oh fuck," she moaned, stretching the word over him.

His tongue pressed swift movements against her, pulsing into her, and she pushed his cock into her mouth again, sucking hard, taking him deep.

Merlin, the image of her choking on him, taking him deeper, her lips stretched tight.

He could have burst again, like that, with his tongue deep inside of her, her hips rolling to find friction on his chin.

He felt his cock swell, but the ring kept him steady.

She released him with a pop and a gasp, pulling up and away from his hips. He could just barely see the curve of her spine from here. She pushed up, pressing on his hipbones, and pushed her hips against his mouth.

"Fuck, you're so good. Oh, god, Draco."

He moaned with his tongue inside of her, and she cursed. She rode his face, her wetness rolling down his chin.

Merlin, she was marvelous. Her taste, her hair as it fell down from its knot. He sucked in needy breaths from his nose, and let her use him. Her legs spread around his stretched arms, and he thought that maybe he could do this again. Do this every day.

She pushed down, rubbing herself against him, and squealing, chanting praise and telling him how good he was.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god!"

Don't stop, Granger. Don't stop now.

Dark spots popped in his vision, and he gasped against her and dove back inside. She squeezed his tongue. He could feel her pussy fluttering around his tongue and his lips and he moaned into her.

"I'm so close! God, Draco, yes. Yes!"

He lapped at her, swallowing her, and pushing his chin up to find her clit.

Her thighs shook around his shoulders. She pressed her nails into his hipbones, whispering prayers.

Her hips rolled, her breath stuttered and before he could understand it she lifted herself off of him and he gasped for air.

His neck muscles relaxed, sore from straining. "Your wall?"

She twisted to kneel next to him. "Yes," she breathed. "But you were very good, Draco." She swept her hair off her shoulder, chest heaving. "I'm very pleased with you."

She lowered herself to kiss him, and he knew she could taste herself on his tongue. The thought made him moan. She pulled back and now she did conjure a wet cloth, wiping his face for him, running light patterns down his neck and onto his chest.

"You deserve a reward, don't you?" She smiled at him from under her lashes.

"Thank you," he said quickly.

She tossed the wet cloth to the side, and shimmied her knickers down her hips. He watched as she pulled her stockings back into place and slipped the red silk off her legs.

He looked down his body and found his cock standing straight up, thicker than usual.

She followed his gaze and reached for him, her fist loose and teasing. He moaned, and arched his head back.

"Oh, Merlin, let me touch you." His arms pulled, and he felt his sore shoulders protest. "Just one hand. Let me play with your clit." She squeezed him tighter. "Fuck, I wanna eat you out every day. Use my hands on you—"

She took her hand off him. "Draco, you were being so good. Don't stop now." He looked down just as she slithered on top of him, throwing her leg over his hips. "Are you going to be good for me?" She held his eyes as she bent over, letting her tongue drag up his cock.

"Yes, yes," he murmured. "Let me be good to you with my hands." He tugged at the cuffs and squeezed his eyes closed as she closed her lips over the tip of him "Fill my palms with your perfect tits, push you down on my cock and pound into you. I can be good to you." Her mouth disappeared from him and he felt her shift until her hips hovered over his cock. "Please let me be good to you. Let me have my hands—"

His eyes snapped open as her hand grabbed his jaw. She smirked down at him, and said, "Good boys say thank you."

He swallowed. "Thank you."

"You want to be good for me, Draco?" She used her other hand to guide him against her dripping cunt.

"Yes," he groaned.

"Then don't beg until I tell you to."

He stared up at her, blinking. She leaned down and kissed him, and as she pulled away, she shoved her knickers into his mouth.

The fabric swallowed his growl when she slid onto him, his cock filling her as she descended.

She hummed, closing her eyes. She sat up tall, throwing her hair back, and pushed down further until he was all the way inside. His eyes rolled back in his head.

"Draco," she said, and he opened his eyes, breathing harshly against the silk in his mouth. "Shake your head 'no' for Yellow or Red."

He couldn't imagine any reason why he would want this to stop. She was so tight around him, so hot and wet already. He nodded and watched as she smiled and began to lift off of him slowly. She placed her hands on his chest, and it pressed her tits together, still in their silk casing.

"Oh, god, Draco. You're so good." She sunk on him. "I could come just from seeing you like this: Spread out, hands cuffed and my knickers in your mouth." She leveraged herself higher and sucked her lip between her teeth as she brought her hips to meet his again.

He could smell her from her knickers. She was filling him with her scent, milking his cock and dangling her tits in front of his face.

She spread her legs out further, and rocked against him, taking him in shallow thrusts.

"God, you're thick," she muttered to the ceiling. "So good. So perfect."

She brought one hand to her breast, and squeezed, pulling the mound from the silk and plucking at her nipple.

He groaned and snapped his hips up. She sat back, centering her weight on him, and brought her hands to her tits, spinning delicious circles around them. She ground down on him, and his hips met hers. She lifted up, and he followed, pressing his heels into the bed, and pounding up into her.

She gasped and looked down on him. He watched her face as she smiled, but a second later pressed her hands on his hipbones.

"Draco," she paused him. "Stop trying to Top from the Bottom."

He squinted at her. And she reached around and unclipped her bra. He sighed around her knickers, his balls squeezing as her tits bounced free.

"Just lay back and enjoy, okay?"

He had no idea what that meant. But she slid her hands up her stomach, cupping her breasts and running her thumbs over her nipples, and Draco's eyes glazed and his arms pulled.

"So good, Draco," she hissed. And began to ride him, slow at first, and then she picked up her pace and he fell into the rhythm of her tits bouncing, her hips rolling, his cock moving with her.

Why had they never done this? He'd never gotten to watch her on top.

She watched his face with hungry eyes, rolling her hips forward, sucking him into her and then dragging out. She bit her lip and changed her direction, squeezing her thighs and bouncing up and down, over and over, faster until all he could see was her breasts moving in a tempo he could memorize.

"Oh, god," she moaned. And she bent forward, hands beside his head, her hair a curtain around them, and she pushed her hips faster.

It took everything in him not to move with her. She flipped her hair over one shoulder and lowered down on him, slick with sweat, and he groaned into the silk in his mouth, eyes closing. She kissed his collarbone while her breasts slid against him, and her heat wrapped around his cock.

He felt like he was going to overflow. He'd only come once with the cockring on, and he was ready to tip over.

She hissed up into his ear, "So good. So thick for me."

He groaned in his throat.

"You're perfect," she moaned, beginning to snap her hips in a quick rhythm. "I want you like this forever."

He choked on words that couldn't be heard, and held back his hips.

"Now, Draco," she begged. "Please?" She pulled the silk out of his mouth and he gasped. "Faster, Draco."

He began to snap his hips up to meet her. She moaned into his mouth, and he kissed her roughly while his cock drove up into her.

She gripped his hair and tilted his head back, kissing him deeper, as she squeezed his cock, beginning to flutter.

"Yes," she whispered into his mouth. "Yes, like that."

Nonsense tumbled out of his mouth. Things like "every day" and "perfect" and "yours." One of her hands stretched up and held his, squeezing in the same rhythm as her walls squeezed his cock.

"You're so good, Draco," she hummed into his mouth as she swallowed his ragged breaths. "I love you like this."

It felt like he shattered from the inside out. He growled out as he came inside of her, jerking and panting, hips still canting up into her, feeling her hot wet walls tug at him. When he felt the world come back to his body, he realized she had one hand shaking in his grasp, and the other pressed between their bodies, pressing her clit feverously. Her head in his shoulder, her hair spread across his face, and her hips still rutting against him.

"Yes, yes," she yelled into the mattress. "Oh, god, yes."

He laid there panting, letting her work herself. Not daring to move.

"Oh, fuck me. God yes." She turned and heaved into his ear. "Draco, yes."

His eyes rolled back inside his head. He wasn't doing anything, and she still begged him for it.

She moved against him, still squeezing him inside.

"Let me get the vibrator," he whispered against her neck. She nodded quickly, using wandless magic to uncuff his hands.

He didn't rub at his wrists. He didn't roll his shoulders. He just turned them over, jumped off the bed, and grabbed the purple contraption. He ran back to her to find one arm thrown over her face, the other rubbing at her clit.

He dove between her legs, moving her hand and attaching his mouth to her nub. She groaned.

He turned on the vibrator and replaced his mouth with it. Her back bowed off the bed, hand grabbing for his hair. He kissed her thigh, feeling it quiver beneath his lips.

"Unh, yes," she hissed.

He reached up and ran his thumb over her breast, watching her gasp.

Draco carefully removed the cockring, and slid up her body, the vibrator between them as he lay down on top of her. He pressed his face into her neck, and the hand that had been over her face twisted into his hair.

"Thank you," he whispered, pressing the vibrator harder against her. She bucked up. "Thank you for making me so good," he hummed into her ear. "I loved being your perfect boy."

She groaned and arched up against him. He pressed the vibrator into the hand holding onto his hip, and brought it to her core, while his hand dipped into her folds.

"Thank you," he said. And she fucked herself on his fingers, pressing her face into his hair and kissing the skin she could find.

"Tell me what to do to be good," he said.

"Faster."

He pushed his fingers into her, giving her two thick digits moving quickly, wet with both of their come. He pumped faster and he heard the vibrator humming in different speeds.

"Oh god." She arched off the bed, pressing into him. He added a third finger and she hissed. He hammered into her, sore arm tensing.

"Stop, Draco, stop."

The vibrator fell away, and he pulled his hand from her. She turned her head and kissed his lips, pressing her tongue into his mouth and delving into him. He ran his hands up and down her sides, enjoying the feeling of her breasts beneath him, her legs open and holding him in between her hips. Her hands twisted in his hair, holding him against her mouth. Her teeth nipped him as she ran her hands down his back to his backside and squeezed. He could almost get hard again he realized.

She twisted their tongues together for another ten minutes, his hands running along her legs, between them to pull at her breasts, and up to hold her face until she finally pulled her mouth from him and said, "I want to do that again. Soon."

He rolled his eyes at her and pretended to hate the idea.

~*~

The next morning at breakfast, he watched as she pulled apart his note, but before she could read the words  _Coral is far more red than her lips' red_ , Finnigan sat down next to her.

Draco blinked.

She smiled up at Finnigan, tucking the note away. He watched as the Irish boy said something funny. She laughed. He put his hand on her arm as he said something else.

Draco looked down at his breakfast.

"I told him he might want to stay away from her," a voice to his right. Draco looked up to see Theo watching Granger and Finnigan. "But clearly he didn't believe me."

Draco looked back at the two of them. He was asking her a question. Her mouth pulled into an "oh" and her brows lifted.

Draco looked back at Theo. On the other side of him, Mulder was biting into his bacon nervously.

"Who knows," he heard Blaise say across from him. "She hasn't been with Finnigan yet from what I've heard." Blaise sipped from his pumpkin juice. "He could have a magic cock for all we know. And Draco doesn't mind, right Draco?"

He looked up at the darker boy. "Right. We're not exclusive."

"You're not?" Mandykins squeaked. Draco scowled at him.

"No, don't let all those love bites fool you," Blaise said, and Draco flushed, reaching up to cover his neck. "Hermione Granger is still on the market."

Draco sneered at Blaise. And looked past him to where Granger was nodding and smiling as Finnigan stood from the table and bid her goodbye, heading back to where Dean Thomas sat grinning at his friend.

Draco excused himself and headed to class early.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience kids. ;) ALSO! This story won Runner-Up for Favorite Erotic at the Beyond the Book Fanfiction Nook Awards 2018! Thanks fam!

Blaise Zabini was up to something.

Draco sat with him at breakfast Monday morning after a very uneventful weekend. Granger needed to  _study._  Exams were this week, and she felt that their extracurricular activities took up too much of her time and concentration.

With winter break beginning this coming Saturday, Draco felt a strange sense of urgency to make sure he spent every waking moment with her, or thinking about her, or wanking to her.

But now he was trying to figure out what the fuck Blaise was doing.

Blaise plopped into the seat next him at breakfast, and begun a very benign conversation about how things were going with Granger. It had now morphed into a full interrogation of all the different things they've tried, how many times he'd gone down on her, and what exactly  _is_  a cock ring?

"Why are you asking, Blaise?" Draco finally snapped.

"Just… research." Blaise smiled brightly at him and stood from the breakfast table, just as Granger began to pack up to head to the library for last minute studying.

Draco watched in a strange trance as Blaise joined her on her way out, smiling and holding the door for her.

He was almost positive he botched his Charms exam that afternoon, distracted with Blaise's intentions.

Whereas Granger was giddy after her Muggle Studies exam. He could tell because she pulled him into a dark corner before dinner and told him all about it. In between kisses.

"Oh!" she gasped, pulling away from his lips for the fourth time, "and the final essay question wasn't even on there! They didn't even ask the question I'd been preparing for all weekend!"

She beamed at him.

"Are you sure you checked the back of each exam page, Granger? Nothing printed on the back?" he teased, leaning in to kiss her again, and her smile dropped.

"Do you think I—"

"I'm sure you checked the back of the exam pages, Granger."

"Yes, but what if I  _didn't!_ "

"You did."

"I should go to his office and check—"

He pressed her back into the wall and said, "Go after dinner."

~*~

On Tuesday morning, Blaise walked with Draco down to breakfast, running to catch up with him.

"I've had some thought about Granger's situation."

Draco scowled at him. "Alright."

"You haven't considered a threesome?"

Draco tripped down the stairs. Actually rolled. Goyle lifted him back right-side-up and McCarthy tried to help, dancing around him.

"Don't touch me, Marigold!"

Blaise threw a hand on his shoulder and guided him to hang back from the rest of them.

"Really. Think about it," Blaise said majestically. "Two blokes both with the same goal: her pleasure."

Draco started to gag. "I… I can't with this, Blaise—"

"She and I were talking, and based on what you've said, I think it's worth a shot."

Draco rubbed his bruised wrist and stopped. "You talked with her about this?"

"Not specifically this, but think of it Draco. This way, if one of us finishes too soon, the other one is there to continue." Blaise walked ahead, turning to walk backwards, completely at ease.

Draco's eye twitched. "Did she tell you that I finish too soon?"

Blaise stopped, lifted a brow, and said, "Don't you?" He grinned. "You said sometimes she really starts to get going at the end, just before it's over."

Draco looked down, his body aching all over… probably from the fall…

"Just think about it, Draco," he said. "Something new to try. And I mean, you've tried a  _bunch_  of things already." His brows raised, glee in his eyes. Blaise turned the corner and continued to the Great Hall.

Draco hadn't told him about the domination. He thought that was… private. And he was slightly embarrassed by it all too.

But from the smirk on Blaise's face, it looked like Granger had.

Granger had discussed a lot.

When he finally made it to the Great Hall, he sat down just as she received this morning's poem: a piece from "My Mistress' Eyes" again.

_I love to hear her speak, yet well I know  
_ _That music hath a far more pleasing sound_

She looked up at him after reading, and smiled.

He just watched her.

~*~

Wednesday, she was done with all her difficult exams.

She celebrated by riding him until his eyes crossed.

When he came just as she was begging him not to stop, he felt that sickening feeling in his gut that he'd come to associate with failing her.

She cooled down, and kissed him lazily, smiling into his mouth.

"Are you going home for Christmas?" she asked, lying next to him, catching her breath.

"Yes. I have to."

She nodded without asking too many questions. Something he appreciated. He already knew about her parents, so he knew she didn't have a specific home to go to.

"I'm staying here. I think McGonagall is allowing Ron and Harry to visit on Christmas Eve."

He rolled his eyes. Just what he needed. The Weasel hanging around when he was trying to push her through her orgasm.

Thankfully, Blaise was headed home too, so he needn't worry there.

Blaise…

"I've thought of something else we could try," he said.

"Oh, yeah?" She turned on her side, one arm supporting her head. And blissfully, her breasts rubbed against his arm in the process. "What's that?"

"Blaise has offered his services… if we ever needed a third partner." He hummed the words into the cold air of the room, listening to a clock tick to his left.

"A third partner," she repeated.

"Yes." He stared at the ceiling. "It might be something to try. You're already comfortable with him." He felt like his face was made of clay, barely moving.

"I… If you think it will help," she said.

His chest tightened, and he nodded. He wished it didn't interest her. Wished she only wanted his hands, his mouth.

"Friday night, then," he said, sitting up and starting to get dressed. "Before we leave for break."

~*~

There was something cold about the castle over the next two days. He was about to leave for two weeks – nothing warm about the Manor this time of year – and he felt… unaccomplished.

Blaise assured him that the two of them would not need to touch each other. "Unless she wants us to," he had said, winking at him. Draco frowned.

So really, it was just the matter of "sharing" her.

He couldn't eat on Friday. He followed Blaise up to the Room of Requirement, listening to him chat jovially about his holiday plans. Usually he begged Blaise to come visit him over break, to swing by for New Year's. He was silent.

At seven o'clock on the dot, she opened the door slowly, eyes taking in the two of them in the couches. The couches she'd touched herself on weeks ago. The couches where she'd sucked him off the first time, and where he'd slipped inside of her as he begged her not to make him come too soon.

He shook his head.

Blaise moved towards her.

"Welcome," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"Hi," she said. She looked at Draco quickly before putting down her bag. Draco couldn't stop staring at the spot Blaise's lips had pressed against her skin.

"Would you like anything to drink?" Blaise, ever the generous host. He gestured to the drink cart near the bed.

"Um, sure," she said. Draco frowned as she looked over the bottles. "Is there anything… bubbly?"

"How about bubbly?" Blaise grinned, and she laughed a nervous chuckle.

Draco stood near the desk in the corner of the room while Blaise poured her a glass. She glanced at him once before tasting it.

"Draco," Blaise said. "Firewhisky?"

Draco thought about refusing. About telling him to shove the bottle up his ass.

"Yeah, alright."

Blaise poured each of them a tumbler and extended one to him. Draco had to cross the room to retrieve it, bringing him closer to the bed and to the two of them.

Draco was about to down his when Blaise offered a toast.

"Cheers. To trying new things!"

Granger tipped her glass to Blaise's, and then locked eyes with Draco. Their glasses clinked.

Draco swallowed his whole. It burned, opening his throat on the way down, and he held in his cough.

"Now, I'd wager this will work a bit differently than other three-ways," Blaise said, educating them. Draco wanted to reach for the Firewhisky again. "As long as you're comfortable"—he nodded to Granger—"it will be our job to keep you stimulated, hopefully until you climax."

"Hopefully," Granger echoed. She smiled as she sipped half her champagne down.

"So, we can take turns doing things you like," Blaise continued. "I'm thinking, one of us undresses you – stimulating you, one of us can give you oral, then one of us can begin penetration. And if you're comfortable, when that person can't go any longer, the other one takes over."

Clinical. Emotionless.

Draco's heart was thundering. Imagining Blaise taking over for him, or Blaise touching her while Draco pounded into her sweet heat. His eye twitched.

"I'd say tonight will be best with lots of communication," Blaise drawled, as Draco ran his hand down his face. "But most importantly, it will be about giving Hermione what she needs."

A cold dagger in his stomach.

_Hermione_.

Draco looked at Blaise. He grinned at Granger, then brought his glass to his lips as he lifted a brow at Draco.

_Hermione_.

How well did the two of them actually know each other? How much time was spent talking about family, and dreams, and daily anecdotes?

Granger looked over at Draco as she finished her glass.

"Refill?" Blaise said.

"Er, maybe. Not sure yet." She pressed her lips together and placed her glass on the side table.

"So, do you have any preferences on anything before we jump in? Any idea of where you'd like to begin and with who?" Blaise asked, turning to her. "Maybe preference on first penetration? That's always a good place to work backwards from." Blaise grinned at the room, like he was hosting a party.

"I… I don't think I have a preference." Granger studied her shoes.

"Alright," Blaise said cheerfully. "Draco, I'll let you pick. Do you want to be first?"

It was like they were flipping a sickle for which side of the Quidditch pitch they'd start on. Draco ground his teeth together.

He didn't think he could watch Blaise have sex with her. That was clear. But he knew she wouldn't come during the first turn. If she came at all, it would be on the second. And did he want to watch her first orgasm be with Blaise?

He opened his mouth and she beat him to it.

"I'd…. Actually, I'd like for the… oral… to be – er, to be with Draco. If that's alright."

Her eyes flicked to him before she looked away and started pouring herself another glass of champagne.

Well, there was a bright spot in all of this. She thought he was better with his mouth than Blaise Zabini.

"Splendid," Blaise said, not put-out in the slightest. "So, if we're switching off, then I suppose that means I'll go first with penetration. Is that all right with you, Hermione?"

She jerked her head, nodding, and downed the entire glass of champagne.

"So, I'll start with the undressing," Blaise said jovially. He slapped his palms together and rubbed, like he was about to gamble away his life's savings. "And, of course – this goes without saying – but if at any time anyone wants to stop, we just say so."

Blaise looked directly at Draco. He nodded back to him.

Draco retreated to his spot on the far wall, near the desk in the room and waited for his "turn."

Granger stared up at Blaise with wide eyes as he leaned down and kissed her neck. She closed her eyes.

Draco couldn't do this. He looked away, examining the items on the desk. Several sheets of parchment. A few quills and inkpot. He thought about maybe scribbling out his suicide note and then excusing himself.

"Draco," Blaise said. "Do you want to help?"

He took a deep breath and turned to face them, prepared to see her arms thrown around him, and his dark skin sliding across her bare torso.

Her clothes were still on. He knelt at her feet, peeling off her knee-socks. Her shoes settled next to each other at the base of the bed.

She looked over at him.

"Help with what?" he snapped.

Blaise smiled. "Anything. You can start on her buttons." He peeled the first sock from her, his dark hand sliding up her calf, circling her knee, and back down to her ankle.

Did he know about the spot at the back of her knee? The place where she loved to be touched when she was sensitive?

Draco moved stiffly. He stood in front of her. She licked her lips. He reached forward and started opening her school shirt. His fingers shook, and she watched him. He got to the bottom, and pulled her shirt open. She'd worn a lace bra for them tonight.

Her hands grabbed his jaw and she pulled, pressing her mouth against his. He slid his hands across her stomach and grabbed her waist, squeezing. Her tongue flicked out to his lips and she sighed when he opened his mouth. She tasted like champagne.

She gasped suddenly, and Draco became aware again that Blaise was on his knees next to him, doing something to her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, trying to close his mind to anything but her. She moved her fingers into his hair and he sighed. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, savoring her taste.

He felt Blaise stand to his left. Draco ignored him, hoping he would just evaporate. He felt her shirt sliding away from her body, and she had to unhook her arms from his neck to get it off. She reached for him again, grabbing his shoulders. Blaise moved behind her and unclasped her bra. Draco's mouth never left hers, but he could hear Blaise kissing her shoulder. She and Blaise slid her bra off her arms, and he heard her gasp at something. He squeezed his eyes tight.

"Let's move to the bed." Blaise's voice hummed through the air.

He finally separated from her mouth, taking in her face to find her cheeks pink, and her lips red and swollen.

He looked her over as Blaise led her to the bed. She was completely naked. He didn't get a chance to see what knickers she'd chosen.

She climbed up the mattress, sitting in the middle of it, looking lost. Blaise kicked off his shoes, and sat back against the headboard on one side. He gestured for Draco to take his turn.

Granger stared at him, biting her lip. He conjured a pillow for him to kneel on, and grabbed her legs, dragging her to the edge. She squeaked.

He blocked the world out. He focused on her thighs, her stomach, her core. Her legs hooked over his shoulders, and her hands reached for his hair.

He knew how to give her a 9.5. But he felt like sabotaging it, knowing that Blaise was going to have her first. Another part of him wanted to eat her out like his life depended on it, hoping that she'd magically come.

He heard shifting on the bed, and any pride he felt at being chosen for oral disappeared. This was the easiest to disassociate from. To fantasize about anything else. To turn her eyes on Blaise.

He sucked at her clit and she moaned. He dipped his tongue inside of her and she sighed. He licked and kissed and she dug her nails into his head. And all the while he heard other things above him. And he focused on being happy for her.

She started pushing herself against him, closing her thighs around his head, and he'd done this enough times to know that this was Granger's signal. She was coming close to… something.

He hadn't looked at her. Hadn't smirked up at her from where his tongue disappeared between her legs, or checked in to make sure she enjoyed something new he did. It usually made her smile and moan when he did. But he couldn't bear it.

"Yes, don't stop!" she gasped.

So he didn't. She pulled at his hair and snapped her hips against him. He pried her thighs apart from where they had shut around his ears, and held her hipbones against the bed as he ravished her.

She hated this. He knew she did. She liked to be in control of her hips. She liked to push back against him, and drag his face closer with her fingers in his hair.

But he felt like punishing her. For… something.

She groaned, and growled, and scratched at his scalp, and still he pinned her hips down, starting a harsh rhythm against her clit.

She was cursing above him, gasping for air.

9.5.

"Stop, stop," she said, like he knew she would. He gave one last long lick to her quivering pussy, and pulled away, her hands still in his hair.

She loosened her grip and he stood from his knees. Blaise was reclining just to the side of her, in only his trunks, smirking at him. He had clearly been touching her top half, possibly kissing her while he ate her out.

"Well done, mate."

He felt bile in his throat. It mixed with the taste of her.

Draco wiped his hand across his mouth, ignoring the sight of her still spread open and gasping for air below him. He moved back to the desk, resigning himself to watching Blaise Zabini fuck his... fuck Granger.

There was a window next to the desk, across from the bed. Moonlight streaming. How fucking romantic.

Unlike earlier, when he ignored every movement Blaise made and every response she gave, his mind wanted to punish him.

He couldn't look away as she and Blaise moved up the bed. He pulled a pillow down for her head, and she thanked him. He treated her like a goddess. He watched Blaise's fingers drag over her skin, worshipping her.

He swallowed. Maybe he could see why she'd gone to him. Why she'd approached Blaise in the first place and why she'd come back to him "half a dozen times."

Blaise removed his trunks, and slithered down her body. He heard them talk about positions. She didn't have a preference, so they'd start with her on her back.

"Everyone good to move forward?" Blaise asked the room. Both pairs of eyes turned on him. Blaise looked mischievous, almost like he  _knew_. Draco looked at her. Head turned toward him, hair spilling across the bed, chest heaving.

He shrugged at them.

"Sure."

Blaise squinted at him, before returning his attention back to her. "I'll let you know when I'm almost done, Draco. Try to match my pace." A quick glance back to him. "If you can."

A smirk.

Draco's hand itched for his wand.

But this was for her. So she could come. So she wouldn't need him anymore. She wouldn't need his experiments or his toys or his mouth. She could move on. And find herself a boyfriend who could then make her come all day long if he chose.

She gasped at something Blaise did.

And Draco's chest snapped in two.

"I can't," he muttered. He stomped over to the couches, grabbing up his jumper and bag, ignoring the two of them calling his name.

He burst out into the corridor, throwing his bag across the stones, and breathing deep into his palms.

The door opened and suddenly Blaise with his trunks back on was standing there grinning big at him.

" _Fuck_ , Draco! Took you long enough!"

"Just finish without me," he growled.

"I can't  _believe_  you were going to let me fuck her!" Blaise shouted at him with greedy eyes.

" _It's what she wanted!_ " Draco pointed back at the room, back at the witch who was probably squirming for Blaise to come back to her.

Blaise had that infuriating smirk on his face that he'd been wearing all week, hanging out the doorway, and said, "I thought you were alright with this, Draco?"

"Well, I don't want to share her!"

And Granger chose that exact moment to reappear over Blaise's shoulder, eyes round, pulling a conjured robe tight around her waist.

"Fuck," he muttered, and swept up his book bag, taking off down the corridor, ignoring the sweet voice calling him back.

~*~

It was freezing up in the Astronomy Tower. Draco wished he smoked. He would have looked quite fetching with a cigarette up here. Not that anyone would see him.

He sat in one of the open windows, right leg up on the ledge, leaning back in the frame, waiting for the warming charm he'd set on the whole tower to reach the perfect temperature.

"Of all the places in the castle for you to brood, I never would have thought you'd return here."

He turned at the sound of her voice. She stood at the second to last step, hand on the railing. He looked for the signs of her debauchery, the hair that stuck out at odd angles, the crumpled clothing, the love bites on her neck and shoulders. He couldn't find any.

"Did you have a nice rest of your evening?" he asked. He sounded bitter. Well, he was bitter. But he hadn't meant to sound it.

"If you mean the two hours I spent searching the castle for you, no."

He frowned at the grounds, seeing a fire burning merrily in Hagrid's hut. "Blaise couldn't get you there?"

"We didn't try."

His hands squeezed on the stone archway. "Oh."

He heard her feet against the floor, saw her lean against the opening in the tower and look out with him.

"I never wanted to have a threesome," she said. He turned to look at her, her eyes on the Forbidden Forest. "I only said yes because I thought it's what you wanted."

He frowned at her. "Why would  _I_  want to have a threesome with another bloke? Least of all Blaise."

"Is there another bloke you would have preferred?" she teased. He scowled at her, and she smiled. "You brought it up. I assumed it was something you wanted to try. Or it was something you truly thought could help me."

"I'd much prefer another  _girl_. Maybe the one you spent a night with? Whose name I really think I deserve to know by now," he led her. She smiled at the stars.

"Cho Chang."

He blinked at her, feeling a heat creeping under his skin, imagining the athletic body of Chang with Granger's supple curves. His cock twitched.

"Any time you want to discuss that further… for academic reasons, of course—"

"Of course."

"—I'm here."

She smiled. He smiled.

The curve of her cheeks darkened with a happy blush, her teeth biting down on her lower lip. Her eyes dark with the night sky.

He had to look away. She was too much.

She could only let it be quiet for a few moments before he heard her voice again.

"About what you said… as you were leaving."

He ground his teeth together. He hoped she hadn't heard him. Hoped she hadn't understood him.

"I haven't been with anyone else since we… started," she said, voice small. He pressed his lips together. "You haven't really given me any free time," she laughed.

He didn't look at her. Begging her to stop talking and continue all at the same time.

"And I know we leave for break tomorrow," she said. He heard her swallow. "And it's probably silly to ask… er, to mention, really. It's two weeks after all…"

He turned to face her, trying to read her through her mumbling.

She met his eyes. "But I don't want to share you either," she whispered, the sound of it dancing against the breeze.

She was asking him – politely – if he would consider not sleeping with anyone else over the holidays. And the idea hadn't even crossed his mind.

"I only want to be with you," he said. His throat closed.  _Have sex with._ Should have said: I only want to  _have sex with_  you.

He waited for her to smile prettily, move her hair over her shoulder. Or gulp and run.

She stared at him, eyes drilling deep into him. "I only want to be with you," she echoed.

His lips tightened. His fingers spasmed around nothing. He couldn't blink for fear of losing her.

He struggled, needing to break this.

"Of course, you'll have to permit me my fantasies. Especially now that I know about Chang." He looked away, smirking. "I'll be quite busy, I think."

"Mmm." She grinned. "Well, I assume it will help to know that she was quite good with her mouth."

Draco's eyelids fluttered closed. He sighed. "Yes, uh… That helps a lot." He cleared his throat, and tried keep the image for later without letting it affect him now.

"And her fingers. Her fingers were so soft. But firm and calloused too."

He pressed his eyes closed. He shifted himself in his trousers. "Great. Thank you."

"Her tongue, though," she said. Draco's eyes slipped open to find her next to him. "Heavenly. I can't even describe how good it is." Her eyes were dark. She was teasing him – in multiple ways. She slid into the space between his open legs. "But not as good as yours," she hummed.

She drifted a hand to his knee, the one still propped up on the window ledge. She slid down his thigh, pressing forward to push her lips against his.

His body screamed to take her. But he remembered the way she'd just repeated his words.

_I only want to be with you_.

He cupped her face with a hand, letting the other rest on her hip. She pattered light kisses against his mouth and his eyes closed.

She tilted her head to the side, and stepped into him. Her chest brushed against his as she wound her fingers into his hair. He waited for her to part his lips and taste him, but she seemed like she was in no hurry.

So, he let her. He ran his thumb over her hipbone. He let his fingers brush her jaw. Her hand that had initiated, had begun to travel down his thigh, closer and closer had stopped on his hip. The warmth and weight of it resting at the juncture of his thigh and groin still had him hard, but she made no move to press further. Her thumb danced in little strokes across his inner thigh, and every time she teased closer a shiver worked its way from his cock through his body.

Her other hand drifted across his scalp, running tracks through his hair, floating down to the back of his neck, nails pushing across his skin.

He was burning for her.

She continued kissing him, just like this. Her thumb near his cock, her nails raking his hair, her lips barely opening for him.

He was a second away from flipping them, pushing her against the stones, her back to his front, and flipping up her skirt.

_I only want to be with you_.

He sighed against her lips, choking on air.

She pulled back to look at him. Her eyes were black.

His hand on her jaw twitched at the sight of her pink and abused lips, and his thumb pulled her bottom lip down until he could see her tongue.

Her thumb brushed against his cock.

He groaned, and closed his eyes. She pressed her mouth to his again, this time opening her lips. Her tongue pushed into him, lazy and soft. The hand in his hair slid down, down, resting on his collar, but moving no further.

He met her tongue with his, meeting her pressure, meeting her pace.

A soft sigh from the back of her throat.

His hand on her hip rounded to the back of her, pressing his fingers into her backside, pushing her closer. Not close enough to connect their hips, but still closer.

Fuck, he was hard.

Her lips closed over his bottom one, sucking. His hand on her face slid back into her hair, tilting her head and starting to press his mouth onto her, slipping his tongue between her lips, taking control of their mouths.

She moaned.

He dug his fingers into her backside, and finally he felt her hips against his. It was his turn to moan.

She snuck her hand between them, fully cupping him. His hips jerked as she ran her fingers over the length of him, putting just enough pressure on him. Her hand on his collar started undoing his buttons, scratching at his chest as she revealed his skin.

_I only want to be with you_.

He pulled back from her, and found her hazy eyes. He reached for his wand, and conjured a few blankets on the ground next to them. She laughed lowly. He conjured a few candles to the side.

"Not feeling very adventurous, Draco?" she hummed.

"Maybe this is adventurous for me." He winked at her. He flicked his wand and red rose petals fell from midair, landing on the blankets in a lazy drift.

She laughed. He kissed her before she stopped and he swallowed the sound.

She brought both hands up to his chest to finish the task of unbuttoning him. He tossed his wand to the ground and let both of his hands cup her ass, grabbing the fabric of her skirt and hiking it up until he had just her knickers between his hands and her. He massaged her, squeezed her, fingers trailing down and under to move aside her wet knickers and press into her.

"Oh!" She grabbed his shirt, dropping her head to his shoulder. He felt her breath huffing down his chest.

He pumped in and out of her a few times before grabbing her cheeks again and lifting her off the ground, standing and moving toward the blankets on the floor. She wrapped her legs around him as he knelt to the floor, laying her back.

"Oof." She writhed against the hard stones, and he summoned his wand for a Cushioning Charm. "That's better," she said.

The rose petals landed against her stomach as they fell, and he knew he wanted to get her naked as soon as possible.

He attached to her neck, sucking and kissing, and opened her blouse button by button. Her breath whispered across his hair.

When he was halfway down her stomach, his lips followed, sliding down her neck, through her breasts, over her bra, and down to the top of her skirt. He looked up at her and her eyes were closed, laying back. He found the button on her skirt and shimmied it down her hips with her help.

Green satin knickers with black lace. He stared down at them while she pressed her thighs together.

"Where did you get these?"

"I was about to have a threesome with two of the most notorious Slytherins. I had to come prepared."

He tore his eyes from her hips, and looked up to see her smiling up at him. He smirked and lowered his mouth to her knickers, kissing the seams and tasting the skin of her thighs. She sighed, and he felt her relax back into the blankets. Pushing the satin to the side, he dipped his tongue, keeping it light, a contrast to how he ate her out earlier that night. An apology.

One of her legs hooked over his shoulder, and she rubbed her smooth calf over his back. Her fingers brushed his hair to the side, raking patterns into his scalp over and over, not gripping him just following the rhythm his tongue set on her clit.

"…taste perfect," he whispered against her knickers. He rolled them down her hips, kneeling up to lift her legs and peel the satin off of her.

She sat up, biting her lip, her face flushed already, and reached for his trousers. Gently unbuttoning him, and pulling down his trunks, she dipped her head and sucked him into her mouth. He moaned, biting it back too late. Her tongue lapped at him, sucking lightly, taking him deep once before sitting up and pushing at his shoulders.

"Sit back."

He fell off his knees, sitting on his backside, and watched her crawl to him, pushing her face into his neck and working his shirt off his shoulders and his trousers off his knees. She kissed her way down his neck, and once they had removed all of each other's clothing, she pulled back and smiled before climbing into his lap. His hands slid across her waist, eyes lowering to watch her breasts in his face as she placed her knees on either side of him. He sucked her nipple into his lips and kissed softly across her chest to the other one. She reached between them, and lowered herself down until he was inside of her.

He breathed hot air across her breast, and she grabbed his shoulders, one hand running up into his hair.

"Yes," she hummed as he slid deeper. And he still couldn't believe he had been thirty seconds away from watching Blaise slip inside of her tonight.

She lifted up and slid back down on him, and he pulled his head back to look into her dark eyes, and said, "I haven't been with anyone else since we…"

Her eyes fluttered closed as she took him deeper, and listened to him. She pressed her lips together. "Good."

He kissed her. Her mouth opened immediately, and he slid his hands up her waist to fill with her breasts, running circles around her, fingers rounding the soft undersides, and pinching her nipples lightly, loving how she pressed closer to him. One hand drifted around her back, twisting the ends of her curls around his fingers, and he brought the other behind him to lean back on.

She breathed heavy into his mouth, pressing her forehead to his, pumping him inside of her. Her hips twisted at the end of every thrust, and he sighed against her lips.

She paused, draped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her breasts against his skin, and she encouraged him to sit with his legs crossed. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and he recognized the position from their list. That seemed ages ago.

His hands moved to her backside, pressing her close and squeezing the tight skin. Her movements were limited here, but she still found a way to grind her body against him, taking him all the way in. She tasted his neck, pressing her tongue to his pulse and sucking hard. He concentrated on the feeling of being buried inside of her, her arms and legs holding him tight, and her hard tits against his chest. The smell of her hair.

"You feel amazing," he whispered, not knowing where the words came from. She pulled away from his neck and smiled against his lips, kissing him deep.

He groaned when her tongue mimicked the motions of her hips, slipping into his mouth like his cock was pushing into her.

She threaded her fingers into his hair, holding his head in place, and he let her fuck his mouth while his hands ran trails up her back to her shoulders, down her sides, around her backside.

She moaned and her hips jumped when he swiped low over the cleft of her bum. She dragged his head back and hissed, "I'm gonna miss you."

His eyes drifted open and hers were staring into his, breath hot in his mouth, hips jumping as best she could.

"You gonna touch yourself and think of me, Granger?" He smiled. His hands skated up her ribs.

"Yes." She closed her eyes when he dipped his fingers along the sides of her breasts. "Yes, every night, Draco."

"Think of me pumping my cock to you," he commanded. She nodded, bumping his nose with her own. "Think of me alone in the Manor, sweating at the memory of you, Granger."

"What else?" She ground harder against him.

"I'll come to the image of your tits every morning," he gasped. "The way they bounce when you ride me. The way they press into me. I want to sleep on them, Granger, your perfect tits." She twisted his hair, pulling hard. "And in the afternoons, I'll be thinking of your mouth. Your tongue." She whimpered like a kitten. "The way you suck me deep, like no one else can." He brought a hand up to her face, pressing his thumb against her bottom lip, and she opened her lips so he could push inside. She sucked him hard, her tongue pressing hot against the calloused pad. "I'll be hard at afternoon tea, thinking of how much I like coming down your throat, Granger. The way you lick up every drop."

She bit down on his thumb, and he grabbed her around the waist, rocking them forward until she was on her back, his cock still deep inside.

"Oh, fuck," she moaned as his thumb slipped from between her lips, feeling the angle change. "Oh, fuck, Draco. Yes."

"And in the evenings, Granger." He rasped against her face as he positioned himself, lowered down on top of her, resting on his elbows. "Do you want to know what makes me come at night?"

"Yes. Please."

"The image of you like this," he said, pulling out and pushing back into her, watching her lips press together. "Laid out, hair everywhere, tits bare to me, and begging me to fuck you."

"Please, Draco. Please."

He grabbed one of her legs, thumb massaging the back of her knee, and pressed her thigh back next to her chest, slipping deeper into her.

He kissed her, sloppy tongues battling, but they moaned together when he found a tempo with his hips. Her hands gripped his shoulders and he rocked into her, fucking her into the floor. She gasped with every deep thrust, and he could feel her nails starting to cut.

"Oh, god." She groaned into his mouth. "Every day, Draco. Promise me you'll come every day, thinking about me."

"Every day, Hermione." His hips snapped deep and she grunted. "I'll dream about fucking you again every day."

"Just like this," she whispered, reaching down and grabbing at his backside.

"Just like this." He sunk into her. "Gonna make a mess of my sheets three times a day thinking of you." He pulled up onto his hands, looking down at her slick tits, swollen mouth, and heaving stomach, his cock moving slowly in and out of her. "So beautiful."

She leaned up and wrapped her arm around his neck, kissing him. He rocked into her and she moved her hips with him. Her cunt squeezed him and he moved faster, knowing that was her next command.

She gasped.

He pressed a hand on her stomach, anchoring himself there, pulling her body to his. She laid back, running her fingers over her breasts, closing her eyes and lifting her legs.

A pressure in his stomach. A clenching. And he lowered down on her again, holding her knee up to him, sliding against her body, his face in her neck as she shivered. Her hands back on his shoulders, scratching, and he kept his pace against her, even as his legs began to shake. A lazy rutting, pressing him deep inside of her, pushing his hips firmly against hers with every thrust, a sigh falling between them on every drag of his cock.

She squeezed him again. And again. A cry from her lips as her walls pressed around him tight, her nails dug trenches into his back, and her back bowed up, pressing against him.

He groaned into her hair, kissing her ear, sucking the flesh into his lips. His hands tightened on her leg and in her hair, and he saw such intense light behind his eyes. He yelled against her neck, feeling her thigh quaking in his hand.

He panted against her, waiting for his breath to come back to him. She laid still beneath him, and when he could move he pulled up and looked down on her. Her eyes were wide and glassy. She licked her lips and watched his face, her chest heaving against him. And that guilt that always accompanied his release crawled back into him.

"I'm sorry," he said. He pressed his eyes shut. "I didn't even try to get you to finish." He sat up, pulling out of her and pressed his hands into his eyes.

"It's okay." A small voice from under him.

He wiped a hand down his face. She lay on the blankets, eyes on the ceiling.

He dipped down and kissed her lips, feeling her open to him, and his hand slid down her stomach.

"No, that's okay," she squeaked. She pushed his hand away and started sitting up, scrambling to find her clothes. "I… I hit my wall."

"I'm sorry."

"Please, don't be." She grabbed up her bra. "I have to – I have to get back to Gryffindor Tower. They're having a party tonight. Should make an appearance."

He watched her get dressed and slowly did the same.

He insisted on walking her all the way down the Astronomy Tower and to the portrait of the Fat Lady. She bit her lip and answered his questions about her plans for her two weeks off, and when they reached the corridor where they separated, he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissed her deeply. She hesitated, but quickly fell into the kiss, opening her mouth to him and gripping his hair when he dragged her hips against his. They were out in the open, like lovers. Like a couple. And he begged the universe to send someone walking by, just so he could tell them that Hermione Granger only wanted to be with him.

She gasped against his mouth, warming to him, moving her hips against his.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" he asked.

She looked up at him with hazy eyes and said, "Sure. Breakfast."

"Train leaves at 11am." He kissed her lips one last time before moving away from her, letting her stumble toward the portrait hole.

He woke up the next morning with a smile on his face. He finished packing, grabbed the letter with last lines of "My Mistress' Eyes," and headed down to breakfast.

Only she didn't show.

And it wasn't until he stood on the platform, scanning the crowd at 10:59AM that he even thought that there might have been something wrong last night.

Something that he missed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter!

When he slid into his normal compartment on the train, Blaise was waiting for him with a huge grin. Draco scowled at him.

"Well, hello." He gestured to the bench across from him for Draco to sit. Reluctantly, he did. "Did she ever find you last night?"

Draco looked up at him and straightened his robes. "Yes. We clarified for each other that neither one of us wanted to have a threesome with you."

Blaise smirked. "I'll try not to be too offended by that—"

"The fuck is your problem, Blaise?" Draco snapped.

Blaise lifted a slow brow. "My problem," he said, "is that I've had to spend the last few years watching you deny your crush on Hermione Granger—"

"I don't have a  _crush_  on Hermione Granger!"

"—And I guess the denial phase isn't over."

"I mean…" Draco sputtered. "I do  _now._  But not before. Not… Years, you claim? No."

Blaise sent him a dead look. Very bored with the conversation.

"Definitely… not." Draco finished.

Blaise rolled his eyes and said, "I'm just commenting on what I've observed. And if you weren't going to end the idiocy, it was time for me to step in."

"Well, thanks for trying to fuck her in front of me. That really helped," Draco hissed.

"I'm sure it did." Blaise smirked.

Draco pouted the whole way home.

~*~

He held out for two days before finally breaking and writing to her.

_I hope your holidays are going well. I missed you at the platform—_

He crumpled the parchment and tossed it over his shoulder.

_I dreamt of you last night. You were sucking me off in the kitchens of Malfoy Manor. The house elves were making my favorite dish and—_

He tossed that away, shaking his head at how strange that dream had truly been. Best not to be shared.

After a few more tries he landed on:

_I was sorry to have missed you Saturday morning, but just know I'm thinking of you._

_Every day._

He included the beginning of another Shakespeare sonnet.

_Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?_  
_Thou art more lovely and more temperate_

~*~

Narcissa wanted to talk about what he planned to do after leaving school. Draco had very little interest in anything besides getting back to Hogwarts.

"I'm sure Professor Slughorn would be honored to write you a recommendation for the potion-making program in the states if you want to get out of Great Britain for a while." Narcissa sipped her wine and watched her son carefully over the glass. "You could get in on the ground floor of the Ministry as well."

"Yes, I'll think about it." He flipped through the post for a third time.

~*~

The morning of Christmas eve. And Draco had to restrain himself from writing her again. Maybe the owl had gotten lost? Maybe she was ill and not receiving any letters?

Maybe she didn't like how intimate their last time had been. It had been… perfect in his eyes. But for her, maybe she preferred the experiments with their differing positions, and their dirty talk, and their roleplay.

"Draco," his mother said, disturbing his thoughts. "You have a letter."

He jumped and snatched the letter from his mother, recognizing neat handwriting, and rushed from the room, searching for privacy.

He ripped the seal off the envelope and pulled the single page out with shaking fingers.

_Draco,_

_I'm sorry I missed you at breakfast on Saturday. I hope you're having a lovely holiday at home._

_Happy Christmas._

She hadn't signed it. Which was smart.

But she hadn't explained herself.

And she hadn't said whether she was thinking of him too.

~*~

On the train back, he sat stewing while Blaise and Mullally played Exploding Snap.

"Oi, Draco. Whaddya get Granger for Christmas?" Marquez asked after the smoke cleared from his latest play.

Draco stared out the window. "Nothing. We didn't do presents," he said flatly. "We're not exclusive."

"Oh, bloody hell!" Blaise moaned.

~*~

A few hours later, the train rumbled to a stop. Blaise and Moffat jumped up, grabbing their trunks and pushing out the door. Draco dragged himself to his feet, and followed. He was the last one off the train, and as he stepped down onto the platform, there she was.

She stood, shifting from one foot to the other, twisting the sleeve of her jumper. Waiting for him.

"Hi," he said dumbly.

"Hello." She smiled quickly, looking over his shoulder at the train.

He lugged his trunk off the train, and brushed his hair back, stepping closer to her. He watched her fingers pull at the threads at her sleeve, and even though she hadn't written him back, hadn't said goodbye to him, he still wanted to kiss her.

He stepped in to do just that when she spoke.

"How was your holiday?"

He stared at her like she was speaking Chinese. "Er, great. Thanks. And yours? Did Weasley and Potter spend Christmas with you."

She swallowed. "Yes. Yes, it was good to see them."

He nodded, and watched the wind whirl her hair around.

"I have good news." She swallowed. "It happened."

He stared at her, searching her face. "What? What happened?'

"It... my..." she stuttered. She took a deep breath, and stood tall, fingers dropping from her sleeve. "An orgasm. I had one," she said, and his heart stopped. "So, you—"

"With who?!" He cut her off and stepped closer.

She jumped, and he scowled at her, feeling like his ribs were breaking off one by one.

"With... with..." she sputtered, "myself. By myself." She blushed and looked away again. "I, um… I was alone and I just… It happened." She looked back at him.

She'd had an orgasm. She'd done the impossible. Without him.

Draco smiled weakly. "Congratulations, Granger." He watched her eyes blink rapidly at him, dropping to his lips, and felt something twisting in his gut, something dark worry. "How was it?"

"Great," she said quickly. "Really, really fantastic." She pulled her lip between her teeth and wrapped her arms around herself in the winter chill.

"You got over the wall?"

She looked at him and said, "No wall, actually. It wasn't even an issue."

"That's wonderful, Granger."

He stepped closer to her and pressed a kiss to her cold cheek. He shrugged off his coat and twisted it around to drape across her shoulders. She watched him, eyes growing bright, and he pulled the lapels together, brushing his thumbs across her jaw.

She took a quick breath.

"Right," she said. "So, you… Er, we don't have to… experiment anymore."

The wind whipped at his skin, sending icy shivers through his veins.

"Mission accomplished," she said, adding a shaky laugh.

He watched her breath mist in the air between them, the dark anxiety spreading across his chest like tar.

"Right."

Maybe she meant the  _experiments_  were over. Surely the two of them had more than the experiments tying them together by now.

"You can feel free to go back to… whatever you were focusing on before you decided to help a damsel in distress." She smiled, and then it slid off of her.

"Right."

She turned to look over her shoulder and said, "We better catch the last carriage before it leaves us behind." She nodded her head at the Thestral-drawn carriages and stepped back, leading the way.

He trudged behind her, watching his boots land in the snow. She hopped up into the carriage and he stared at her, drowning in his coat.

To be that close to her and not be allowed to touch her.

"I… I'm going to walk actually," he said. "Been sitting on the train for so long…"

Staring down at him, brows furrowing, she said, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure."

He wasn't positive he could sit next to her like they were… friends? Exes?

"Here, take your coat, Draco." She pulled it off and he stopped her.

"No, no. It's cold. Keep it and I'll get it from you… tomorrow or something."

Her eye twitched, like tomorrow was out of the question.

"No. Here." She tossed the coat at him, the only reason he would have to see her again after this, and the Thestral yanked the carriage back, winding her away.

He walked back to the castle, following the hoof prints, coat tucked under his arm, hearing an echo in his head.

_I only want to be with you._

~*~

It took nearly a week for him to gather the courage to approach her again. He saw her in the corridors, at meals, and in classes, but she kept her head down, looking at her book or her notes, and avoided him like Bubotuber pus.

On Friday evening, he headed to the library, knowing no one would likely be there. There were a few "welcome back" parties he'd been invited to that evening, but he'd declined, feeling like she would have as well.

A few Ravenclaws to the left. A few introverts in the corner. And one curly-haired sex kitten tucked into the back. A simple jumper and jeans.

His palms began to sweat. She had her quill between her teeth, flipping through the pages of a heavy 1000-word volume, standing near the shelf looking displeased with the Hogwarts library's selection.

"Hey," he said. Fuck. So dumb.

She spun to face him, eyes wide. She closed the book and pulled the quill from her teeth, ink smudging the corner of her mouth.

"Hi."

His eyes dropped to the stain on her lips and he gestured, stammering, "You have… the quill left ink."

"Oh." She blushed scarlet and rubbed at the wrong side of her mouth.

"Here." He pulled his handkerchief and stepped in to her, testing the unspoken boundaries she'd set when he returned to school. Her eyes watched him carefully as he dragged the cloth over her mouth, fingers resting lightly on her jaw.

When he was done, she looked down at the handkerchief to see his initials monogrammed into the corner. "Of  _course_  you have a monogrammed handkerchief." She rolled her eyes.

"You don't have one?" He teased.

"Do  _I_ have a linen handkerchief with your initials woven into the sides? No." She smiled.

"Now you do." He tucked the handkerchief into the pocket of her jeans and smirked at her.

Something deep darkened her eyes, and she let her gaze wander over his face, resting on his lips. She jumped.

"I can't," she said, drawing a shaky breath. "I can't take this." She tried to hand it back to him.

"I have hundreds more, Granger."

"Hundreds?" She raised a skeptical brow.

"You're right. Probably thousands," he said smiling. She scoffed.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and shifted to her other foot. "Did you need something?"

He swallowed and started, "Er… Well, you know…" He looked up at her, adopting a playful tone. "You and I spent quite a few weeks working together, as scientific partners." He gestured between them. "And I was wondering if you wanted to discuss further your findings. For academic purposes, of course."

She looked back and forth between his eyes, and he watched her swallow.

"For academic purposes," she repeated.

"Right." He pushed his hand through his hair. "I was so curious about your… about what was going on with you, and you've now figured it out—and that's great—but maybe… if you wanted to… we could discuss… the successful experiment."

She blinked at him, and bit her lip. "What do you want to know?"

He gestured to the table near them, pulling out a chair for her. She moved slowly, landing on the edge of the seat, sitting straight as a rod. He sat next to her, pulling his chair close so their knees were touching. He pulled out the parchment they'd made over a month ago with her list of positions and her idea of a fantasy man. He grabbed her quill that had stained her mouth and sat studiously primed.

"You said you were alone? Were you in bed? In the shower?"

She looked down at the parchment. "You're going to write this down?"

He looked at their parchment. "Well, yeah."

She stared, and then crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Er, yes. I was alone. I was in bed."

"Your bed?"

"What?"

"You were in your bed? Or another bed?"

"What does  _that_  mean?" She glared at him.

"I meant the Room of Requirement," he said, watching her face burn pink. He found it strange how riled up that had her.

"No," she said, dropping back in the chair a bit. "My bed. In my dormitory."

"And you've masturbated there before?"

"Of course."

"And what was different this time?"

A pause. He looked up from the parchment and found her watching him. She looked away.

"I… I guess," she said. She looked down at the library carpets and swallowed. "Nothing was different. It didn't come down to a different pressure or a different stroke. No new toys. Same position..." She stared off. "Nothing different."

He made a small note of the very useless information she'd given him.

He dotted his "i" and looked up at her. "What were you thinking about? Any new fantasy? Any new person?" He swallowed before he choked on the words.

Her eyes raked over his face, and then her head snapped away. "Nothing. Nothing different."

He shifted closer, knee bumping hers and she jumped, pulling her leg away. He frowned and said, "I feel like you're not telling me something."

She looked at him, and guilt was scribbled all over her face, like the ink had spread.

"I'm not lying."

He blinked, jaw opening. "I… didn't say you were. I said you're holding something back." She chewed on her lip, and he said, "If you're embarrassed, don't be. Even if you have a strange new fantasy that gets you off, it's still getting you off—"

"I don't have a strange new fantasy, thank you very much—"

"I'm not saying you do—"

"Then what are you saying—"

"That you know  _exactly_  how you had an orgasm and you won't tell me!"

The words rang through the stacks, and her glare darkened on him.

"Who says you have a right to know? It's my body, Draco."

His mouth opened and closed, and he fought the impulse to let the irrational thoughts pour out of him, like  _Well, I spent probably a cumulative twelve hours going down on you for the past month, so I'd say I deserve_ _something_ _._ Or –  _I thought we were partners in this._  Or –  _You won't ever let me experience it, so the_ _least_ _you could do is talk to me about it._

He looked down at his lap, eyes drifting to her knee, so close to him.

She spoke again, quieter. "Why do you want to know this? Why are you writing this down and asking me questions?" Her voice cracked, and he looked up to see her eyes wet.

"Because I was supposed to be there," he murmured.

She nodded, looking down at the desk. She took a deep breath. "I was thinking… I was thinking about how wonderful it felt. How good it was."

He put the quill down and asked, "And the wall wasn't there, you said?"

"Didn't even think about it."

"Good," he said, and smiled. "And what did it feel like? The wave without a wall there?"

"Brilliant." She smiled. "Like crashing… or maybe it's electricity. Or fire. It was small. But that was definitely it."

He watched her lips, loving the smile in the corner of her mouth. "And the next time? Was it small then too?"

She met his eyes. "Next time?"

"Yes, the next time you came?" he asked, turning towards her fully, showing her he was forgetting the parchment.

She blinked at him, and looked down. "I… No, it wasn't like that."

He frowned. "How was it—"

"I haven't been able to come again."

His eyes flew wide open. "What? Why not?"

She blushed and looked over his shoulder. "I don't know."

"You need to—" He stopped himself, and scratched his jaw. "You should try again. Maybe recreate it or—"

"I  _have_  been trying." She sighed. "Been trying stupid things."

His lips formed silent words for a few seconds before he finally found what he wanted to say.

"If you ever need a partner again, Granger, I'm available." He looked down as he felt her eyes on him. "I enjoy having sex with you, even when we're not actively trying to make you orgasm. Though I very much like trying to make you orgasm." He pushed at the cuticle at his thumb. "So, if you want to get together again, all you need to do is ask."

He pressed his lips together and listened to the silence. That's all he really came here to say. Try to get her to tell him a bit about her climax and then offer himself to her whenever she felt randy.

He had just decided to roll the parchment up and walk away when her hand pressed on his knee. He looked up to see what she wanted to say to him, finding her face a breath away from him. She looked down to his lips, leaning towards him, and kissed him.

The smell of her this close to him again. The pressure of her lips. He let her keep it slow and sweet, and just placed his fingertips along her cheek. She pulled back for a moment, looking in his eyes, and then over his shoulder quickly, before moving both of her hands to his shoulders and climbing into his lap, legs on either side of him.

She pressed against his lips again before he could voice anything, and she opened his mouth and tasted him. She moaned.

He didn't want to press his luck. She'd said they were done. She'd said he was released, and here she was reeling him back in. He brought his hands to her hips, sitting low on his thighs instead of pressed up against his groin. The denim of her jeans against his school trousers scratching soft sounds.

He gasped when she nipped at his tongue, and she pulled him closer, arms wrapping around his shoulders, one hand pushing through his hair. Her chest brushed against his, and he shivered.

"Draco," she whispered. "Touch me."

He slid his hands around her hips, intending to glide up her back, keeping a safe distance, but then she groaned into his mouth. And he grabbed her backside, denim pulling tight. No room to press her flesh but he squeezed harder and she rolled her hips.

She tugged at his tie until she could pull his shirt buttons apart, dipping her head to kiss at his neck and his Adam's apple. Her mouth was hot and perfect, and he could probably live like this forever. If this was all she wanted to give him, he could live here.

Halfway down his chest with unbuttoning, she kissed his ear, and said, "Please."

He pulled her up to meet his hips, fingers digging into her as she gasped and pressed up against him. He trailed his hands up her torso, pressing between them to cup her breasts, over her jumper. She smiled against his jaw and pressed hot kisses back toward his mouth. He rubbed his thumbs over her breasts, focusing where he felt her nipples harden and poke through.

She let out a small sound and reattached to his lips, pressing her tongue against his, and rolling her hips.

His cock was starting to respond, even though he  _told_  it to calm down.  _We are taking what she gives us today._

But what she was giving them…

Her tongue was obscene. Her hands tugged his head back so she could delve into his mouth, and she dragged her tongue through him like she was parched.

He moved small circles around her nipples and he felt her shiver and moan into him. His hands trailed down and under her jumper, spreading across her stomach, dancing over her skin, and she shifted, pressing higher on his hips so she was right on his cock. He choked, and she started a quick thrusting against him, pressing the seam of her jeans between them.

"Yes…" she hissed against his lips. He was gasping for air before she kissed him again.

She was possessed, rutting against him like they weren't in an open corner of the library. He didn't want to remind her. Didn't want her to come to her senses. Didn't want her to stop this delicious pressure.

His hips jumped against hers and she laughed, gasping for air. He slid his hands up, finding her bra and her beautiful tits. He flicked and plucked and rubbed and she breathed into his mouth, hissing curse words against him.

Her hands dropped, suddenly at his belt. He froze as she ripped his belt open and unbuttoned him, unsure what she wanted to do while she was in jeans.

She dove into his trousers and maneuvered until he was hard in her hand, stroking up and down between them.

In the middle of the library.

"Fuck," he moaned into her neck. "Missed you."

She kissed his ear. He heard fumbling and looked down at where her hand squeezed him to find her other hand opening her jeans. She pressed a shaky hand between them, somehow finding space to dip into her jeans and touch herself.

"Granger," he wheezed. "I can—"

"Just don't stop touching me, Draco. Please don't stop."

He kissed her neck, and filled his hands with her breasts. She dropped her head on his shoulder, and managed to pull at his cock with an expert hand while rubbing herself.

"Dreamed of you," he whispered. "Dreamed of this."

"Don't stop."

He twisted her nipples and she jerked against him, squeezing him tight in her hand before continuing to stroke him, continuing to swirl her clit.

"Wanted you every day. No one, but you. Fuck."

She shivered. And went still. He looked up at her. Was it…?

She swallowed, and closed her eyes, shaking her head "no."

He pulled her bra cups down, and moaned when he felt the skin of her breasts again for the first time in weeks.

"Want to taste you again. Want your tits in my mouth."

She pumped him faster, twisting her hand at the end. She kissed his forehead, and he could feel his thighs shaking.

She had two hands on him now, one pumping him from the base and the other dancing softly around the head, thumb rubbing at the sensitive spots that she used her tongue on.

"Oh Merlin, Granger."

His thumbs flicked at her nipples, fingers pulling them, rolling them. He could hear her breath at his ear.

"I could spend forever here," he moaned against her neck. "Want you forever. Only you."

He moved to kiss her lips again, and she twisted away, turning to suck at his neck, pressing bruises into his skin and using her tongue perfectly.

His eyes rolled back in his head, and his hips started jumping. Her two hands stroking him, pulling at him, her tits in his hands.

Two hands?

He pulled back and looked down. She wasn't touching herself any longer.

"What happened?" he wheezed. "Your wall?"

She paused, then nodded in his shoulder.

He gasped when she twisted her hand so she could roll his balls between her fingers.

"Granger, stop. We can—"

"It's okay. Let's just finish," she choked out. She pushed her lips against his before he could argue, and her cheeks were wet.

"Don't—" He pulled his face from her, taking in the two tear tracks running down her face. He brought his hands down to her hips. "What's wrong? Don't continue if—"

"I want you to come, Draco," she whispered. She rolled his balls, squeezing just right, and he couldn't communicate to his cock any more when she looked behind him and quickly reached up to pull her jumper over her head, baring her chest to the library, bra cups tucked under her breasts.

Her hands returned to his cock, as she turned her dark eyes on him, pressing her tits together and pushing them toward his face. He groaned, forgetting what it was they were talking about.

She licked her palm, dragging it over her breast before pumping his cock again, both hands working him. His palms were sweating on her hips, as he watched her breasts rock with the rhythm of her arms. His stomach tightened, eyes glued to her tits. Those perfect tits he hadn't seen for weeks.

He leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth, hips jerking under her as she moved faster on him, lifting her other hand to thread through his hair, keeping him pressed to her chest.

Her fist squeezed him, and he started mumbling against her breast, words falling against her skin.

"Please let me be inside of you again. Please, Hermione. Want to fuck you into a mattress and feel your mouth on me again. Want to taste your cunt. Want to live there for hours. I need to feel you. I need—ah! I need to feel you come around me. Need it. Please, Hermione."

She gripped his hair, twisted her fist around his cock, and said, "Okay."

And he came against her stomach, over her hand. He must have yelled, because her mouth was on his, swallowing his moans and his shaking breath.

He couldn't breathe, black spots dancing in his eyes. When she pulled away, breath hot on his lips, he wheezed against her, and looked down to memorize the image of her like this. Topless and straddling him in the library, her hand still tugging lazily at his cock, the mess between them.

_I love you_.

He almost said it.

~*~

She agreed to meet him the next night at the Room of Requirement after dinner.

He didn't bring any toys. Didn't make any plans. He just showed up.

She was already there. Watching the fire in the fireplace, sitting on their couches, leaning forward on her knees while the light danced on her face.

She didn't notice him come in, her mind working. So, he watched her.

He loved her. For a little while now. In the Astronomy Tower. While cuffed to the bedposts.

Probably from the moment she first put her mouth on him, which was so incredibly  _male_  that he rolled his eyes at himself.

He cleared his throat, and she jumped, turning to look at him. She stood from the couch, and he was surprised to see her in a dress. A knee-length cotton thing with short sleeves and a small waist.

He didn't know the names for any of it, but it looked…

It looked like a  _date_  dress.

"Hi," she said.

He swallowed. He was just in a lousy jumper. Something he anticipated taking  _off_ , so he hadn't thought…

"You look nice." Lame. Do better, Draco.

She blushed, the color rising to her eyes where he thought he found a bit of makeup. "Thank you. So do you."

He stood there, staring at her. The fire backlighting her curls and her long legs.

And something made him ask, "Are you hungry?" You were supposed to feed them on dates, yes?

She blinked at him. "Hungry? Er, no. I just ate dinner. You were there," she teased.

"Right. Yes." He ran his hand through his hair. "How are your classes so far?"

He still stood in the doorway, half a room between them.

"Fine," she said. She looked down, and he could just make out a small frown on her lips. Her arms crossed in front of her. He was making her uncomfortable by just standing there, so far away. Self-conscious about her dress.

"Sorry," he said, and crossed the room. "You're too pretty. I had to stare at you for a moment."

She blinked up at him, and he placed his hand on her face, pulling her to him, pressing a soft kiss against her lips. Her hand steadied herself on his chest.

He tilted his head, kissing her again, and she opened her mouth to him, her fingers curling in his jumper. He teased her tongue, barely stroking her, focusing on her lips.

Moving his hands down to her waist, sliding around her back, he pulled her closer, holding her tight to him.

He pressed her close and lifted her, toes grazing the ground, and walked her back to the bed. She gasped and giggled, and his chest warmed.

She dropped on the edge of the bed, bouncing and smiling up at him. He knelt in front of her and she brought her hands to his shoulders while he pulled off her shoes, hands lingering on the back of her knees. Her eyes darkened and she brushed his hair back.

He could see the makeup now. Something silly on her eyes to make her lashes long and black. Something she didn't need. Some light color on her lips making them look pink and delectable. Things he already knew.

And a silly little dress. Probably with some very silly lingerie.

None of which she had on at dinner.

All for him.

She sat on the edge of a large bed, looking down at his lips, her fingers resting on his jaw. And something in her eyes was anxious.

She took a breath.

"I have something to tell you—"

"I love you," he said. Whispering out of him like a summer breeze.

Her lips formed silent words, struggling to respond. Her eyes grew wide, blinking largely at him.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." He dropped his head, speaking into her lap. "I shouldn't have—"

And then she was pulling his face up to her, pressing kisses against him, tugging his hair. He pulled her waist closer, standing and moving her up the bed, crawling on top of her until her legs opened for him to slide between.

She tore at his jumper, dragging it up until he sat back and pulled it off, tossing it somewhere in the room. He looked down at her, panting on the bed, already reaching for his belt.

She was glad. She wanted him to love her.

He grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed near her face, slithering down to kiss at her neck as her fingers laced with his.

"I love this dress," he hummed into her skin. She brought her leg up to hug his hips. "Will I love what's underneath it as much?"

She chuckled, breathing heavy on his ear and whispered, "Maybe. It's a pretty great dress."

He smiled into her neck and dropped his hips to hers. He kissed down her collarbone, down her chest to the top of her breasts. She squirmed under him, pushing against his hands.

He alternated between kissing each breast, trailing paths across her chest each time.

"Miss your skin," he mumbled. He kissed down her chest, over the cotton, lower and lower until he had to let go of her hands. They moved directly to his hair as he slid her dress up her thighs, revealing pale pink lace knickers. He stared down at her hips until she started pressing her thighs together.

He dropped off the edge of the bed, dragged her hips down to him and kissed her over the lace. She sighed.

He ran his tongue over her, pressing the material against her until it was soaking wet, concentrating on her clit. He opened her wider, pressing down on her thighs and pulling the lace to the side. She groaned, pressing her hands against her face as he lapped at her, sweeping through her folds and pressing down on her clit with each stroke.

"Missed you," he whispered to her cunt. And she laughed.

He dragged two fingers through her, circling her, swirling, and pressed inside. She trembled and tried to close her thighs but he held her open. He hips jumped when he dropped his mouth back to her, fingers pumping slowly.

Her hands dragged through his hair, and he paused, looking up at her. "I want… I want to be inside of you if you come. Is that okay?"

She nodded vigorously, and sat up, peeling her dress off over her shoulders. Matching pale pink lace bra. He leaned forward and kissed her breast, sucking her nipple through the lace. She gasped and held him close, letting him move to the other one before reaching down for his trousers again.

He helped her take them off, shimmied down her knickers, and peeled her bra off her shoulders once she'd unfastened it.

She scooted back on the bed, hair flying everywhere when she lay down. Draco crawled over her, kissing her, and running his hands wherever he could find. She stroked him a few times, and pressed him to her entrance. He looked down at her and held her eyes when he pressed inside, feeling her heat hold him like velvet. She brushed his hair out of his eyes and watched his face as he started to move.

She felt just like he remembered. Tight in all the right places. Skin slick. Eyes dark and haunting. And it was okay that he loved her. He'd said it, and she still wanted him.

He dropped his head against her shoulder, kissing at her neck as he pressed their bodies together, pumping his hips into her. Her legs wrapped around him, her hands running down his back.

"Love you," he hissed into her throat. "Love this." He sucked at her, listening to her breath catch. "Thought of you every day, like I said I would." He felt her walls squeeze him, and he gasped, babbling on. "Love your skin, and your little dress." Her hips jumping to meet him. "Fuck, never wanna be without you." Her nails scraped down his back, and he reached between them, circling her clit, and pressing his lips against her ear. "You'll be the death of me."

"Draco—" She moaned a choked sound.

"I'll make love to you every day," he wheezed, feeling her trembled beneath him. "No one else. I only want to be with you."

A sob next to his ear, and he pulled back to watch her—watch her tear at the seams for him.

But there were tears down her cheeks, eyes staring up at the ceiling. He felt ice in his veins.

"What's wrong?" His hips stopped. His hands moved to her face. "Are you hurt?"

"I can't—" She gasped. "I can't—"

He watched in horror as she cried, pressing her eyes closed, batting his hands away and turning on her side when he slipped out of her.

"Are you… Hermione, what's wrong?" he said to her back.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she gasped. He pressed his hand on her ribs, begging her to breathe. "I love you," she whimpered. "I love you so much."

He stared down at her, not trusting his ears. He could feel his heartbeat in his fingertips.

"Granger, it's okay—"

"It's Ron…"

He frowned. Thinking about her ex was hardly the response he wanted right now. She was shaking. Afraid.

"Right," he said. "Right. There's a lot of pain from when you two were together. From the things he said to you—"

"No," she wheezed, ribs going still. "I was with Ron. When he was here for Christmas."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter! Thanks to everyone who had been enjoying this story and leaving comments - even those who don't review, thanks for reading!
> 
> I know last chapter had a lot of people shook, and I'll keep this in mind for future stories and try to properly tag ahead of time. For those of you who had a very strong reaction and will be utterly disappointed if this results in a happy ending, feel free to stop reading here. Go ahead and go back to chapter 9, and insert Hermione came to meet him at the station, blah, blah, blah.
> 
> If you still do wish to continue to read and leave a character assassination or call this just some smut with no development, by all means, that is your right. But like… go do something else with your weekend.

"I was with Ron. When he was here for Christmas."

He lifted his fingers from her body, feeling the cold air between them.

She shook.

"You said you wouldn't," he whispered absently. "Before… when I asked you if you were going back to him once you—"

And a cold stab pierced his chest.

"Did you come with him?" he asked, voice tight.

She turned over, eyes red and bright, tears falling down her face. "No. No, Draco." She sat up, sniffling. "No, not with Ron—"

He didn't want to hear his name. Not when she was naked next to him.

He pulled back, rolled off the bed, faced away from her, and said, "Put your clothes on."

"Draco—"

"Don't be naked," he said, shaking his head. "I think we're done… being naked."

She crawled off the bed while he kept his eyes on the floor. Once she had dragged her dress – the date dress – back over her torso, she turned to face him.

"You were just going to… what?" he asked. "Pretend it never happened? Continue to fuck me. Hope you come, and then what?"

She opened her mouth, squeaking nothing in response, and he started grabbing his clothes too.

"Draco—"

"I thought," he cut her off, tossing his shirt over his shoulder, "we said we weren't…." He felt sharp pinpricks against his eyes. "You asked me not to sleep with other people! But that didn't apply to you?"

She was holding her bra and knickers, crumpling them in her hand. "I made a mistake—"

"THE FUCK YOU  _DID_!" He laughed, shoving a hand through his hair. He started pulling his trousers back on.

"I know. I know, and it was stupid of me—"

"You're Hermione Granger. Nothing is  _stupid_  of you—"

"Well, this was!"

"So, what?" He spun on her. "You're back with Weasley again and I'm… what? A footnote?"

"No, no, no." She moved from her side of the bed, darting toward him. "We're not together—"

"Oh, of  _course_ ," Draco hissed. "He couldn't make you come, so you're done with him now."

"Draco, stop—" she sobbed, voice wet and tired.

"Time to move on to the next bloke." He snatched up his shoes and tie, and bolted for the door.

"No! Draco, no. I only want you—"

He stopped and turned in the doorway. "That's funny. I've heard that before."

He slammed the door on her crying eyes, and threw his shoes into a suit of armor, listening to the crashing as he stormed back to the dormitories.

~*~

Draco lay in his bed the next morning, skipping breakfast and wallowing.

He didn't quite comprehend how she could say she loved him. They had something great, yeah, but to love him and still want to sleep with other people?

He supposed there were some relationships like that – Blaise had had his fair share – but that wasn't what Draco wanted with her. And she'd known that when he left for Christmas.

Hadn't she?

He squinted at the ceiling.

Yes, she'd known.

_I only want to be with you_.

Pretty fucking self-explanatory.

He'd helped her rediscover her sex drive, and she'd broken his heart. A fair trade.

Blaise came back from breakfast and stood next to his bedpost.

"Granger is at the entrance wall. She wants to see you."

Draco almost sprang out of bed. Fuck, he hated himself.

"I'm not interested."

Blaise sighed. "She said you'd say that. She looks awful though. You should probably see her at least."

Draco stared at his green canopy and said, "She fucked Ron Weasley over Christmas."

Blaise was quiet for a moment. And Draco waited for him to roll his eyes and tell him to get over it.

Footsteps, and Blaise was leaving.

Good. He wanted to be alone.

"THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM, GRANGER?"

Draco smiled for the first time in twelve hours.

~*~

He skipped breakfast on Monday morning. When he headed to Advanced Herbology with the Ravenclaws, she was standing outside the greenhouses, shuffling from foot to foot.

She did look awful.

Good.

She opened her mouth to stop him, and he pressed past her, entering the greenhouse alongside Mayberry and Theo.

It continued like that for the rest of the week. She stalked him around the corridors and he waited for her to take the hint.

On Friday, he received an unaddressed envelope on his plate at breakfast. He tore it open, and found neat scrawl flourishing across a thick page.

_Love is too young to know what conscience is;  
Yet who knows not, conscience is born of love?_

He blinked down at it, feeling her eyes on him across the Great Hall. He was moments from setting it on fire and leaving without a glance in her direction. But this was his move. The hours researching the poem. The mornings of scratching the words into perfect lines for her.

If she had torn up one of his letters, it would have killed him.

So, he did nothing. He left it on his plate, and exited, heading to class.

During Potions that day, he'd overflowed his cauldron and botched his sample for Slughorn. He was still cleaning up when class ended, hurrying to vanish the slime as his classmates filed out. He had just run the cleaning charms on his cauldron when the heavy door shut. He turned to find her leaning against it, looking small.

"I have to get to class," he said.

"You don't have a class."

"Then I have to get to… not here."

He packed up his bag, returned the ingredients to the cupboard, and faced her. She hadn't moved.

"I just need two minutes," she whispered. "Two minutes and then I'm done. You won't have to speak to me ever again."

"Promise?" he hissed, and she flinched.

She took a deep breath, and said, "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I betrayed your trust, and I'm sorry."

He scowled at her. "Is that it?"

She blushed and looked down. "I… I misunderstood my feelings for you. It's very clear to me now that I am in l-love with you"—she swallowed—"and that sleeping with another person was—"

"Your ex," he corrected her.

"What?"

"Not just another person." He shrugged. "Your ex."

She stared at him and nodded. "Right." She clasped her hands together and said, "I made a mistake that I thought was right in the moment. I don't want to be with Ron. I didn't then and I don't now. He was an experiment that seemed necessary."

"An experiment. Like me." Draco shook his head at her.

" _You_  weren't the experiment, Draco. What we were doing together was."

He frowned and looked over her shoulder. "Are these two minutes up yet?"

She pressed her lips together. "So, I just wanted to make sure you knew that I know what I want. I want a monogamous relationship. And I want one with you. And I don't expect you to want that any more. But I wanted to be clear."

He drilled a hole into the wall behind her, refusing to look at her.

She looked away and turned to let herself out.

And she'd be gone then. He'd have to seek her out. He'd have to swallow his pride if he ever wanted to see her again. And did he want to?

Something desperate gripped his ribs and he snarled, "You don't know how to be monogamous, Granger."

She stopped, hand on the doorknob, and turned back to him. He advanced.

"You've been sleeping around for months, fucking everything that walks – boy or girl – just to get yourself off—"

"'Everything that walks?'" she simmered. "I've had clear, no-strings-attached arrangements with every one of them but you." She pointed at him. "The goal for those relationships was not monogamy."

"And how many partners have you had on this quest for sexual liberation?" he hissed.

"How many have  _you_?" she shot back. "How many has Blaise?" She stepped into him and said, "I'm sure  _you've_  never fucked someone, 'just to get off."

"Not recently, that's for fucking sure," he spat. "The end goal in all of our  _experiments_  together was to get  _you_  off—"

"Oh, so sorry I inconvenienced your martyrdom by sucking you off, Malfoy." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, now only an arm's length away. "I'm sure you  _suffered_  through every orgasm—"

"Oh, fuck off, Granger—"

"I guess I'll have to from now on," she growled.

"You bet you will. I wouldn't touch Ron Weasley's whore with a ten-foot—"

_Smack!_

His face snapped to the side, and she snarled at him, teeth flashing, ready to spit something back at him.

He grabbed her face and dragged her to him.

And it was like sinking back into a tar pit he'd been trying to claw his way out of.

She moaned against his lips, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He dragged her hips to him, pressing bruises against the bone, listening to her squeak against him.

She bit down on his tongue, and he growled, shoving her back against the classroom wall. He grabbed her jaw, holding her still while he plundered her mouth, pressing her head hard into the stone. She clawed at his shoulders, and reached for his belt.

She jerked his trousers open and he ground against her hand, body remembering her.

Sucking hot kisses down her jaw to her neck, he bit and scraped the skin, making sure she'd be covered with him tomorrow.

She twisted her head and bit down on his ear. He gasped at the pain coupled with the feeling of her palm on him again.

"Fuck, I hate you," he groaned into her hair. She let go of him, reached under her skirt, and started rolling down her knickers.

He spun her, her legs twisted in the lace, and pressed her against the stone, pulling her hips back to him, and flipping her skirt up.

He pushed into her, and she groaned, leaning her head forward on the wall. He pressed his palms on top of her hands, sticking her to the wall, and rolled his hips, feeling her tremble around him.

He grabbed her waist, pounding forward and listening to his skin smack into her ass, each thrust punctuated with a tiny moan from her.

Clawing at her hair, he fisted a chunk of it to turn her head to the side, watching as she bit down on her lip, pressing her eyes closed.

"You like that, Granger? You like my cock filling you up?"

She hummed around her bitten lip.

"I'm gonna fuck you into this wall, and then come in your mouth."

She grunted, and he pressed his teeth into her neck, sucking and biting while his hands pulled her ass against him. He thrust deep, feeling her slick walls part for him. She groaned and turned her head back to the wall.

She whimpered, and his hands jumped up to her tits, ripping at her school shirt to dig inside. He pulled at her nipples, rolling them and squeezing the skin.

"Ah," she gasped. "Draco..."

Her walls squeezed his cock, and he pulled her back, impaling her over and over, rutting into her.

He felt a fluttering, her muscles milking him, and she gasped, holding her breath in, eyes squeezing shut.

He paused inside of her, hips stuttering and watching her face in horror, breathing hard on her neck. She squeezed him again.

"Don't you dare come, Granger," he hissed. "Not like this."

"God! Oh, god," she groaned, body tensing, and he thrust into her again, listening to her cry out.

"Don't you fucking dare."

He'd already made up his mind to fuck her hard, pound her fast, and finish before she had a chance to ruin this... to ruin his first orgasm with her.

But then he pressed inside again, grabbing her hips. And she screamed. Scratching at the wall, lungs choking for air, and best of all, contracting around his cock with such delicious pressure, he could do nothing but shudder and watch.

She sucked in air, throat clicking with the need. Her body still tense between his hips and the wall.

Fuck.

Fuck. He'd fucked her into a wall instead of...

There should have been a bed. It should have been—

She shivered around him again, her cunt squeezing lightly as she sighed, eyes still closed.

He panted against her neck, watching as her fingers uncurled, and her mouth relaxed.

There was warmth pooling between them, spilling over his cock and gathering where they were still connected.

He pulled out of her, slowly, and she moaned. When he didn't push back in, she looked at him over her shoulder and said, "Did you...?"

She looked down, seeing him still hard and red, and she swallowed, turning around and starting to fall to her knees.

He grabbed her arms and pulled her up, kissing her mouth.

She opened to him instantly, pliant and willing for him to want her again. He held her face in his hand, fingers on her jaw, and caught every breath from her lips.

She reached between them and wrapped her hand around him, stroking him gently before he stopped her, and turned them around to one of the desks at the back of the room. Picking her up by her ribs and dropping her on the flat table, he moved his lips to her neck and stepped between her legs.

She caught on quickly, scooting to the edge, wrapping her legs around his waist, and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. He lined up with her again and pushed into her dripping heat. She groaned.

"Fuck," he whispered, sinking into her fully, pressing his lips to her ear.

She tightened her knees around him, and pulled his shirt from his trousers, hands spreading across his stomach and wrapping up around his back.

He huffed against her, and kissed the skin below her earlobe while his hands held her hips, anchoring himself on her.

She tilted her head back, letting him lave at her, and scratched at his abdomen. His cock swelled.

As she sighed, he ran his hands down from her hips, over her rucked up skirt and to the tops of her thighs, quivering around him. He ran his fingers up and down, creeping closer to where they were joined, and he felt her shiver.

He spread his hands, covering the tops of her thighs, and dipped his thumbs to open her, swiping across her clit one at a time, over and over, rolling like waves.

"Oh," she gasped. She hummed a moan into his neck. "I don't know…"

"Shh…"

Her fingers slid up to his shoulders, holding on while he rocked into her, sweeping over her clit. He heard her breathing quicken, stuttering staccato over his heaving.

He kept one thumb at her clit, and moved his other hand to her hip, holding her in place while he pumped into her faster, snapping his hips into her. He pulled back from her neck and kissed her mouth softly, dipping his tongue into her when her jaw went slack.

He started figure-eights on her clit, and she wept a strangled groan into his mouth, breathing harshly against his lips.

"Draco, I…" She kissed him. "I'm not sure."

"Don't worry about it," he whispered to her.

She hummed against his lips, and then the fluttering started again. He gripped her tighter, and held off on his own climax as she bit down on her lip and closed her eyes.

He thumbed at her, flicking and rubbing and pressing harder and her hips began to snap back, meeting his.

"Oh, my… Draco—"

He moved his free hand to her jaw, holding her face, and she opened her hazy eyes, mouth dropping open.

She squeezed him and he almost came.

He looked into her eyes, panting hot air on her face, and when she ran her hands up into his hair, holding him in front of her, she opened her lips—

"I lo—"

"Don't," he stopped her, pressing his hot mouth against her, lips open. He groaned, beginning to finish.

Suddenly she was gasping, squeaking, curling her fingers in his hair, and holding him tight inside of her. Her thighs clamped down around him, and he just let go, thrusting deep into her and coming while her walls fluttered and squeezed and throbbed.

His legs shook as he held still inside of her, loving every time her cunt fluttered, like it was making room for him forever.

She took a shaking, sobbing breath, and pressed a kiss against his jaw.

"Don't leave me like this, please. Just stay a moment," she whispered.

Why would he leave? When she felt like this?

And it crashed on him like cold water. Weasley.

She clutched his shoulders, panting, and he tried to shake it off. Tried to just live there in that moment.

"Our first orgasm together," he muttered. "I'll stay a bit."

She held her breath and whispered, "Not our first."

He frowned and said, "What does that mean?"

She shuddered, and not the good kind. "I didn't want to tell you. I thought—thought you wouldn't want to see me anymore if—"

"What are you talking about?" He pulled his face from her neck and looked at her.

She swallowed. "I wasn't by myself. I lied."

"You're making a habit of that," he deadpanned.

"In the Astronomy Tower," she said, closing her eyes not to look at him. "I... It was so perfect. Everything was right, and you were incredible..."

Draco blinked at her, heart pounding.

"And it happened. Right before you finished, I... I had an orgasm. It was small, and I didn't know what was happening... but I know I had one." She paused and nodded to where her legs were still wrapped around his hips. "And now I really know." A small laugh.

He stepped back, forcing her legs off of him. Her hands slid from his shoulders.

He stared at her, taking in her wild hair and rumpled shirt. Her legs still hanging open, thighs begging him to come back to her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He felt an emptiness in his gut, like he'd just missed the Snitch at the last moment.

"I was confused. I'm sorry. It didn't make sense." Her eyes started to water.

"It didn't make sense that you could have an orgasm with me?"

"No, no." She reached for him, dragging him close again by his shirt. "Just that... it was simple. There were no toys, no characters. It was just you." She ducked her head, resting on his shoulder. "All I needed was you."

He frowned at her knees. "So, your first reaction was to ditch me, and run back to Weasley?"

"I was scared. And confused. I knew in my heart what it was… I knew that I had feelings for you. I've looked it up. It might be demi-sexual. It's this kind of sexuality—"

"Don't teach me, Granger. It's not my kink."

"Right, sorry." She pressed her lips together, and he noticed that her hands were still wrapped around his shirt, as if begging him to stay. "I'm sorry I didn't show up at the platform. I… I wasn't sure you'd still want me once I could orgasm."

He blinked, remembering having a similar thought.

"It wasn't my intention to sleep with him," she continued, eyes wide and asking him something. "I didn't plan it. He started to flirt and I thought, maybe I'm cured. Maybe it's not because I love someone who's only wanted sex from me."

Draco stepped back. Her fingers came with him before remembering to let go of his shirt.

"I didn't…" he started. "It wasn't just sex. I said it." He pushed his hands through his hair. "I said, 'I only want to be with you!'"

"Until when?" she sobbed, shrugging. "Until I come? Until graduation?"

"No—"

"'Being with me' only sexually?"

"Yes. And no." He shook his shoulders out. "That's not how I meant it."

She pressed her knees together, and it made her look small. "That's not how I meant it either. But I wasn't sure."

He shook his head, lost for words.

"Are you going on the Hogsmeade trip tomorrow?" she asked.

He stared at her abrupt change of topic. "I haven't decided."

"If you do," she said, slipping off the desk, "and if you have any inclination to see me, I'll be at The Three Broomsticks. We could... talk some more. Or not talk, if that's what you want. But either way, I'll be there with a seat for you."

_Being_  with her. She meant forever. She meant monogamy. And he… wasn't sure anymore.

"I can't promise anything," he said, looking down at his rumpled trousers.

"I'll wait."

~*~

She didn't say when. She just said she'd be there. Waiting.

So, when two in the afternoon rolled around, Draco was still deciding if he wanted to go. Part of him wanted to stand her up, like she'd done to him at the train platform.

But another part of him had thought about things all night, and now that part of him had more questions.

He sat in the common room, pretending to read when Blaise tumbled down the stairs on his way out. He stopped and plopped down across from him.

"Are you gonna forgive her?"

"No," Draco grumbled.

"Are you through with her?"

"…No." He rubbed at his eyes, moaning into his hands. "Merlin. You did this to me on purpose, didn't you? Created interest, caught my attention. And then you forced me to confess my feelings for her. All to torture me."

"Yes, actually," Blaise responded glibly.

Draco peeked at him. "I was joking."

"I wasn't." Blaise studied his fingernails and sighed. "I did purposefully bring her into your orbit. And I did push your buttons when I could, because you're a stubborn prick who usually can't see what's right in front of your face." He shrugged. "I thought you'd be good for each other."

" _Why_?"

Blaise sniffed. "You like puzzles. And she fancied you."

Draco felt his cheeks heat. "What? When? Now, you mean?"

"No. Before. I could tell."

Draco stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Let's just say," Blaise started, "it's not the best feeling in the world to be chatting up a bird and watch her eyes wandering over to your best bloke." He grimaced. "She fancied you. And I knew you fancied her."

Draco stared at the fire, searching for the right words. "So… that's why you and..." What  _was_  that kid's name! "…your friend were always talking about her?"

"To taunt you, yes." Blaise cocked his head. "My friend? Who?"

"The... scrappy bloke. Seventh year."

"My friend? I thought he was your friend?"

"No. He's always with you. I can never remember his name."

"Me neither," Blaise said.

"Seriously?"

"I wanna say Milwaukee?"

Draco snapped his fingers. "Yes, it starts with an 'M,' doesn't it?"

"Absolutely."

"Mullholland?"

"Muffler?"

"Marriott?"

"Muppet! It's Muppet!"

"Is it?"

"Hm. Now I'm not sure."

~*~

He arrived at The Three Broomsticks just before 4PM. She sat at corner table with a white knit hat and white knit mittens, sipping at a Butterbeer. The drink was over half drunk and probably not her first. Her fingers played with the rim, gathering the left-over foam.

Draco thought he should leave. Should just disappear and never speak to her again.

His feet brought him closer, and she looked up at the movement, rejection etched across her face like this wasn't the first time she'd craned her neck to look for him. When she saw him, she blinked and quickly tore off her white hat, scratching at her scalp.

"Hi," she said, on the verge of standing, but Draco sat before she could force a friendly hug onto him.

"Granger," he greeted her. He nodded at Rosemerta, asking for a Firewhisky. She glared at him, and he frowned, wondering what he did now.

"Did you do any shopping today?" Granger asked. She fiddled with one of the bar napkins, tearing it into pieces.

"No, I…"

_I came into Hogsmeade only for this._

He cleared his throat. "Just some browsing." He looked past her shoulder.

Rosemerta slammed down the Firewhisky, still glaring at him, and said, "Busy day, Malfoy?"

Granger blushed and shook her head at the barmaid.

Draco realized that it looked like Granger had been stood up for the past several hours. He sneered at the barmaid, biting his tongue.

"Just prioritizing, Rosemerta."

She scoffed, about to shout at him, but Granger said, "Thank you, Rosemerta," rather forcefully. The busty wench stomped away.

Draco took a burning gulp of his Firewhisky, and turned his eyes back on Granger.

"How are your classes so far?" she asked.

He sighed. He didn't want to do small talk with her. Not when he knew about her parents and about her childhood dream of becoming a dental hygienist. Not when he knew what she tasted like, how tight she could squeeze him, and what her breath sounded like when she came.

He frowned at the table. She opened her mouth to ask another asinine question, and he stopped her before she could.

"I had a very interesting conversation with Blaise this morning."

She closed her mouth slowly, and looked down at her Butterbeer. "And what was that?"

"He said you fancied me. Before."

Her shoulders tensed and she crossed her arms. "What of it?"

He squinted at her. "'What of it?'"

"Yes," she said. "I thought you were very handsome. I still do. Is that important?"

He gaped at her, then closed his mouth and asked, "Then why did I have to seek  _you_  out?"

She raised a brow. "I had no reason to believe you would want to begin a sexual relationship with me. That's why I was so surprised when you came to see me in the library." She brushed her hair over her ear and said, "Why is this important to you?"

He shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts, "But what about Theo and Blaise, and even fucking  _Marzipan!_  You had no trouble approaching them to help you with your little problem?"

"Who?" She wrinkled her brow.

"Don't change the subject," he hissed. "How was I different? Why didn't you ask  _me_  if I fancied a romp?"

"Oh, please, Draco. Because you would have laughed at me." She rolled her eyes. "Blaise and Theo were much more malleable. When I flirted with them, they flirted back. But you..." She looked away from him. "We barely looked at each other, much less flirted."

"And what about Marsala? Did you honestly think that little twerp could get you off?"

"Who?"

"Manicotti?"

"Are you hungry? Do we need to order you some food?"

"That scruffy bloke always hanging around Blaise. It starts with an 'M.'"

She scrunched her nose in a particularly endearing way and said, "Do you mean Davidson?"

He stared at her. "...No. It's Marlboro, or something."

"Sandy-haired? Seventh year? Always sitting next to you at meals?"

"Davidson doesn't seem right..."

"His name is David Davidson. You couldn't remember that?"

He arched a brow. "Clearly, he is of no importance to me."

She grinned and took a sip of her drink. He watched her swallow, following the line of her throat, love bites from his teeth scattered over her neck.

She caught him staring and he looked away, counting the bar stools.

They were quiet for a moment before he asked, "Do you promise me that you didn't come with Weasley?"

"I promise," he heard her say softly. He nodded.

"Did you fake it?"

"No." He looked at her when she didn't elaborate. She was staring out the window. She pressed her lips together and said, "It was... very quick. Especially compared to what I'm used to." She smirked. "He asked me if I came, and I just laughed and said, 'Of course not.'" She chuckled. "Then he started in on me. Said I should see a specialist. Said I should get a professional's opinion on why I can't have an orgasm. And I said, 'Oh I can. Just not with you.'"

A smile spread across his lips. The idea that Ron Weasley was out there somewhere, wondering who had been fucking his girlfriend silly, was absolutely delicious.

She was staring at his lips, and quickly looked away.

"Did he know where to touch you?" he asked, voice low.

Her eyes flipped to him, and he lowered his lids, hand propping his head up lazily.

"No."

"Does he know about the spot behind your knees?" Draco crooned.

She shook her head and said, "No. He doesn't."

"Did he taste you? Over Christmas? Was his head between your thighs?"

"No."

"Did he touch your breasts like you like? Rub your nipples, kiss the soft skin beneath and tease you into soft circles?"

"No."

He slouched down in his chair, adjusting his trousers and said, "Have you ever tied him up? Ridden his face like a saddle?"

Her eyes were dark when she said, "No, Draco."

"Did he flip you over and press you into the bed, sliding into you from behind? Did he get to watch your cunt fill up with him over and over?"

"No," she breathed.

"Does he know how much you like your hair pulled? How you like to kiss at the end, right before it's over? How you like to give orders, begging for it faster and harder?"

"No."

He watched her chest rise and fall, eyes on him, but shifting her hips so slightly.

"Good," he said, smirking at her.

"There's a bedroom upstairs." Rosemerta startled them both, appearing at their table with a pitcher. "Please don't start unbuttoning at the table."

Granger flushed bright red and said, "Sorry. Thank you. No." She kept her eyes on the table until Rosemerta walked away.

Draco snickered, and then shook his head at how pretty Granger looked like this.

"I don't forgive you," he said. She looked up, eyes wide. Then nodded, looking down. "And I don't forget either. I don't know if I trust you when you say you want to be monogamous."

"I understand." She bit her lip. "I want to make it up to you. If you'll let me. I want to try."

He watched her lashes flutter as her eyes roved over him. "How?"

"However you want," she whispered darkly. And his already aroused cock twitched.

He pressed his lips together and looked over her shoulder, thinking of the bedroom upstairs.

"It's... um... getting dark," she began. "Almost dusk." She looked over at him under dark lashes, like he was supposed to know what she was saying. "We'll need to start heading back soon, but I think the Quidditch Pitch is on the way, isn't it?"

He blinked at her, thinking of that day all those weeks ago when he'd told her one of his fantasies.  _Quidditch Pitch at dusk._

"We... we better get going," he choked.

~*~

"Oh, god! Oh, my god!"

She straddled him in the grass, her dress and knickers pushed to the side, and the top of her dress pulled down to bare her breasts to the cool air, fighting the Warming Charm she'd cast.

His hands held her waist as she rode him.

"I was cheering for you from the Gryffindor stands," she moaned into the mist. "I was so happy you caught the Snitch, Draco. You deserve it."

He almost laughed at her roleplay, but then his cock swelled inside of her.

"You flew so well," she hummed, hips jumping against his, and he reached up to thumb at her breasts. "Oh, god. It was amazing. That dive you took at the end. I was so worried about you, but I knew you'd catch it." She brought her hands down to his chest to lean on him. "Catch the Snitch. Best Seeker Slytherin has ever seen."

She rocked into him, riding him.

"Only Slytherin?" he groaned.

"Best Seeker Hogwarts has ever seen," she corrected, beginning to bounce on him. "When that Bludger almost hit you, I screamed." She moaned, and he gripped her hips, dragging her down on his cock. "But you were so good. The best flyer. You pulled that... Russian Twist out of nowhere."

"The fuck are you talking about, Granger?"

"I have no clue," she whispered down at him. "Am I doing it right?"

He laughed and turned them until her hair splayed out over the grass, the last bit of sunlight brushing across her breasts.

"Yes, Slytherin! Yes!" she screamed, and he shut her up with his mouth.

He pulled back and stared down at her, thrusting fast. "Tell me more about how I'm the best."

"So talented, Draco. None of the professional teams deserve you," she groaned, and he watched her breasts bounce with every push of his hips. "The best flyer in Hogwarts history."

"Better than Potter?" he gasped against her temple.

"Yes! Yes!"

"Say it."

"Better than Harry. You're so much better. You could out-fly him with your eyes closed."

And it was the strangest thing. He came.

~*~

They fell into a strange pattern. He'd resolve to be done with her every Monday morning, and by Tuesday he was fucking her in the storage closet, in the Prefect's bath again, in the Slytherin common room at four in the morning.

She gave  _him_  the massage one weekend, conjuring the same fluffy towels, and choosing the oil he liked best. He didn't know what he was supposed to do when she had him turn over and his cock was already hard against his stomach, twitching with every press of her thumbs into his thighs. So, he closed his eyes and just enjoyed the feeling of her naked breasts sliding against his chest, her thighs straddling his hips, her hands tugging lazily at his cock. Her thumbs rubbed over the head, massaging him until he was thick and rock hard, leaking. He finally had to open his eyes and watch her when she slipped him between her lips, her naked body leaning over him, fingers rubbing at his balls and lips pulling tight around him. He came so slowly, like he'd never be empty, and she swallowed every drop of him with her eyes on his.

He started spending time with her in the library. She'd read or take notes, and he'd do the same. Some nights they'd play Exploding Snap in the back, near the Restricted Section.

He broke it off with her just before Valentine's Day.

"I understand," she said, eyes empty, not even fighting him.

He hadn't wanted the stress of defining them before the holiday. He'd also needed to send back the necklace with the otter charm he'd found for her. It was stupid and unnecessary and they weren't even together and they never were.

And he didn't trust her anyways.

He watched her at breakfast. Watched her push her eggs around and smile at Ginny Weasley before looking away. Watched her head to Hogsmeade with a few people looking grey.

In classes on Monday, Flitwick decided to introduce them to the Patronus Charm. He rolled his eyes and tried not to watch Granger struggle to produce her otter a few times.

While the others were casting, Flitwick pulled him aside and told him a strong happy memory would do. He laughed, and as promised, thought of Hermione Granger's tits. More specifically, Hermione Granger's tits on the bed next to him, pressing against his arm as it wrapped around her waist.

A wisp poured from his wand, shocking the two of them. Flitwick danced up and down like his most difficult student had finally learned  _Wingardium Leviosa_. Draco tried again, and groaned when a specter drifted from his wand that looked suspiciously otter-like, swimming towards her.

"Bollocks."

She blushed, and looked away, focusing on her own charm with a smile on her lips.

He kissed her senseless that afternoon, and they began again.

After a few weeks, he got brave enough to ask if he could try being the Dom. She hesitated.

"Are you... Do you want to punish me? Is that why?"

He watched her throat bob and stepped into her. "Granger, the only thing I want to punish you for is being a swotty little know-it-all who bested me in classes for the past eight years."

She fought the smile creeping up into her eyes and said, "I'm sorry, sir."

He had just finished dressing, so getting out of everything again took him a minute.

A week later, he had her on the bed, arms stretched tight above her head, ankles pulled apart and tied to the bedposts. He spent almost an hour with his head between her legs, making her come twice, screaming and writhing and begging him to stop, but she hadn't said "yellow" or "red" once.

She was halfway to her third orgasm when he finally pushed his fingers inside of her. She groaned and bucked her hips to him. He threatened to silence her if she couldn't keep it down, but he knew he would never. The sounds she made. The gasping and growling. The way she'd warn him before she came, like he was supposed to stop or pull away or wipe his face and leave.

He pressed into the muscles of her thighs, with his other hand, relaxing the tremors and dragging his fingernails over her skin. His tongue lapped at her, circling her clit and spelling his name into her, marking her for his.

She clenched his fingers and groaned. He moved slowly within her, dragging against her walls on each stroke. She babbled, words falling from her about how he should stop, how she was ready for him, how good this was, how perfect he was, how much she wanted him.

Her hips shook against his face, and her back arched. Moisture flooded his fingers and he swiped his tongue down to lap at her. She shuddered, gasping, groaning, begging, and he pumped his fingers faster, listening to her moan his name and beg him to stop.

Her head thrashed and her breath rattled, her thighs fighting the restraints.

"Just one more," he hummed against her clit. She yelped. "One more and then we'll take a break." Her thighs trembled as he pressed his fingers against the spot inside of her that she liked. "Be a good girl, Granger."

Her back arched off the bed and she stuttered syllables about being good and yes sir and anything for you. She screamed, shaking, and announced it to him that she was coming, like it surprised her. And he sucked at her clit as she tightened around his fingers.

He gave her thirty seconds to catch her breath before he slid up her body and slipped inside of her without releasing her bonds. The corners of her lips curled upwards as she sleepily stared at him. Her wrists pulled at the cuffs and her knees tried to hug him, but just cupped her breasts and thrust into her. She closed her eyes, smiling, and let him rock her into the bed. She was so overwhelmingly wet, it was like lathering himself with lube.

He started sucking at her nipples, and she bit her lip.

"Do you have one more, Granger?"

Her eyes slid open and she bunched her brows together. "What?"

"One more time," he mumbled against her breast, letting one hand dive between them to touch her.

Her eyes widened and her mouth pulled into a gasp. "N-no. You don't have to—"

"One more, Granger. Won't stop until you give me one more."

Her eyes rolled back, and her arms tugged against the restraints. He sat up, kneeling in front of her, and pulled her hips onto his thighs. Shallow thrusts from this position, but he had both hands to touch her.

He watched her skin pebble, her chest heave for air.

It was remarkably easier to hold on and not come too quickly now. Maybe it was the familiarity with her. Maybe it was the absence of anxiety that she wouldn't come. Maybe it was that the only thing he wanted in the entire universe was to watch her come apart underneath him for the rest of his life.

"I c- I can't, Draco. Please..."

She would do this sometimes: try to tell him she wasn't capable of coming, try to tell him he should just finish without her.

He didn't let her get away with it anymore.

Draco leaned back down, bringing his chest to hers again, and bent to swallow her gasps as his hips pounded into her, shaking the bed.

Her lips opened for him, and he swept his tongue inside, a slow pace in contrast to his hips. He ran a hand down her side, smoothing over her skin and tweaking her breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple in slow even circles. She groaned into his mouth.

She started shaking her head. "Draco... I can't... Please."

He held her face with one hand, the other pinching at her hard nipple, his hips pumping quickly as his balls tightened, begging him to just shoot into her.

He forced her to look at him and breathed against her lips, "I love you."

She froze, swallowing, and only started breathing again once his mouth was on hers. She kissed him back, and he felt her hips jumping up to meet him. She squeezed him once, and he almost lost it. His tongue dove into her, fighting hers, and his hand squeezed her breast every time her walls fluttered. She pulled her mouth away and closed her eyes, but he grabbed her face and pressed their foreheads together.

She met his eyes as the pressure around him increased, and she parted her lips silently. Squeezing him for hours, rolling waves around him, like she'd never let go. He couldn't thrust anymore so he pushed in deep, and let her fist him. He came like that, just buried in her, lips hovering over hers and her body holding him inside of her.

When they'd caught their breaths, and he'd released her arms and legs, she tried to give him an out.

"I know you only said it in the moment. So, don't feel uncomfortable." She tossed her hair up with her back to him. "We can forget you said it."

She zipped her dress up – another dress – and smiled before leaving the Room of Requirement before him.

He stared at the fire until it dwindled to embers.

~*~

He kept saying it.

Always when she was right on the edge, and sometimes when her mouth was sucking at his cock.

She'd look at him from her place between his knees, eyes blinking up at him, and then lick him slowly from base to tip.

Or he'd say it when she was thrashing under him, face squeezed tight as he tortured her clit. Just a whisper she barely picked up on, but then suddenly her legs would squeeze and she'd scream his name.

Once while she straddled him, rocking slowly over him, sitting tall and touching her breasts with her eyes closed. He'd said it and her eyes had opened, and she'd swallowed down a response, bending to kiss him and rolling her hips.

The one year anniversary of the Final Battle was approaching. Anyone who fought on the winning side was invited to attend a feast at Hogwarts, and he could feel the date creeping closer like a heavy reminder of his sins.

Also… Potter and Weasley.

"I was thinking," she said, as they walked through the corridor the weekend before, letting their knuckles drift towards each other, "that I will tell Harry and Ron that I'm seeing someone."

His fingers twitched. "Really."

"Yes. That way there won't be any misunderstandings with Ron while he's here."

"And if they ask who?"

"It's none of their business." She pushed her hair over her shoulder, and turned to him, stopping. "Unless you think it should be. I could tell them. About you."

He stopped and faced her. "You want to tell Potter and Weasley you've been sleeping with me for the past six months? We're supposed to  _remember_  the war, not start another one."

She grinned at her shoes and said, "What do you want me to do?"

"What do  _you_  want?"

"What I want hasn't changed," she said.

A monogamous relationship. With him. Isn't that what they already had?

"My mother will be here this weekend," he said shuffling his feet.

She blinked. "Oh, so probably not a good time for... drama. I won't mention anything. I'll just reject Ron if he tries to start something—"

"I'd like for you to meet my mother."

She stared at him dumbly. "I've met her."

"Right." He scratched his jaw. "But as my..." He trailed off, finding no words that were suitable. Her eyes were bright and her breath came in short puffs. He felt a joyful bubbling in his chest. "And actually, yeah, tell Weasel you're seeing someone."

"Draco—"

"And while you're at it, tell Potter you think I'm better at Quidditch than he is. If you don't feel comfortable, I'd be happy to show him the memory of it that I keep in my Pensieve—"

"Draco." She stopped him with a hand on his arm. "As your what? How will you introduce me to your mother?"

He kicked at the floor. "I mean, I'm sure 'the girl I've been fucking' will go over just as wonderfully as 'my girlfriend,' so take your pick, I guess."

She smiled and wrapped herself around him. They stood just like that, foreheads pressed together, her hand over his chest. He felt her heartbeat from her fingertips.

He'd have to thank Blaise for this somehow, someday. He tilted his head to kiss her softly when a squeak from behind them paused him.

He turned to find an older Gryffindor girl, looking between them with her jaw open.

"Omigod!" she squealed. "Are you two together! That's so sweet! Are you telling people? Can I tell people?"

"Er, maybe next week?"

"Okay! I love it! Hermione, this is great! You guys are precious!"

The girl scuttled away.

"Who was that?" Draco asked.

"No idea. I think her name starts with a 'G' or something."

She shrugged, and took his hand.


End file.
